The Dollhouse Project
by HorrorSkit
Summary: The Dollhouse. An illegal corporation that caters to the rich, providing everything they need. Human volunteers are given new identities to satisfy those needs. Dollhouse with Teen Wolf characters, along with my own spin on things. My first fanfiction ever, so please read and review if you find it interesting. For my friends on Tumblr. Rated M for language and violence. AU.
1. Episode 1: Welcome to the Dollhouse

**Authors Note: I don't own Dollhouse or Teen Wolf. If I did, the shows would not be half as good. This story is essentially Dollhouse with Teen Wolf characters and my own personal spin on things. My own episodes and ideas implemented into the story. I've never written anything like this before, let alone submit it, so please be kind and I hope you will take the time to review. Don't expect too much because as I said, I've never written anything before. If you haven't watched Dolllhouse, I hope you will enjoy this story anyway. Hope you enjoy the story!**

**Episode 1: Welcome to the Dollhouse**

The room was dark, the ceiling lamp lighting little more than the table at its center. Derek DeWitt sat at one end of the table, watching the young girl pace back and forth. He wore a dark business suit and tie to match his professionalism. His scruffy facial hair contradicted that notion and gave him a casual quality. No doubt he could be menacing when he needed to be. He sat with his legs crossed, his hands resting on a file that he had yet to open. He wore a smirk on his face as he watched her patiently. This little confrontation was his inevitable victory and he was enjoying every moment of it. Crystal Argent stopped pacing and turned to look at him. Her black hair was matted, and her clothes had been ripped in several places. Her eyes held a fire that was dulled by fatigue. She looked as if she had been in battle.

"Nothing is what it appears to be," Derek stated.

She scoffed, finally taking a seat, "It seems pretty clear to me. I lost, and this little meeting is just a formality for you. Things are turning out just like I expected."

"That's because you're only seeing part of it. I am offering you something more. I am offering you a clean slate."

"You ever try and clean an actual slate? You can always see what was on it before," She leaned back, letting the realization wash over her. "But I don't really have a choice, do I? Oh god…. how did it get this far?"

"I'm sorry Crystal, but actions have consequences," the smirk on his face was on the verge of becoming smug.

Crystal rose to her feet, "Oh, God, you're loving this, aren't you?"

His smile faltered, "I'm sorry you don't understand what I'm offering here, but what we do helps people. If you become a part of that, then we can help you too."

"Oh that's right. You're just looking out for me," her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Perhaps even better than you have." Derek opened the file on the table and pulled out a form. "We can take care of this mess for you. All you have to do is sign a contract and after your five-year term, you will be free to…"

Crystal cut him off. It was all beginning to become too much for her. "I don't deserve this! I was just trying to make a difference, trying to take my place in the world, you know, like she always said, and now I'm….. I know….. I know. Actions have consequences," she conceded.

Derek leaned forward, the smirk returning to his face. "What if they didn't?"

DDDDDDD

**1 Year Later**

"Happy Birthday to you!"

Everyone started clapping and clinking their glasses together. The crowd began to disperse and move toward the dance floor. Crystal Argent walked up to the man at the center of the celebration and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"You having a good time?" he asked.

"The best! Now, I think we should strut our stuff on the dance floor." She said, swaying her hips and pulling him toward her.

"Nah. Let's just take a little more time for us, while we still have the time," he grabbed her hand and led her to a nearby table to sit in peace.

"Well jeez you make it sound like we're on a schedule. I know we said three days, but that doesn't mean we can't run over," she stated, skeptical of his sudden interest to keep track of time.

"Yeah I know. I know. Listen I know when this weekend started we said no strings attached…"

"We also said no ropes, look how long that lasted." She joked.

He chuckled, "Right. I remember," he gazed at her fondly, "I remember all of it, and I always will."

"What like I'd forget? You think this is a normal weekend for me?" She asked playfully.

"Maybe?"

She made a face of surprised offence. "I'm gonna ignore that on account of me realizing that you are an idiot."

"Anyway, I got you something. It's small and stupid, but I want you to have it." He handed her a necklace with a small heart pendant.

She looked at and looked at him fondly. "You're an amazing guy, Eric."

"When you say it, I almost believe it," there was a hint of a somber tone in his voice.

"Thank you, for everything."

"It's getting late," he told her.

"You're not getting out of another dance." She demanded

"Of course not, I'm just gonna go grab a drink." He got up and walked over to the bar, looking at his watch as he did so.

Peter Langton came walking up to her. He wore a black suit and had a very professional stance.

"You ready for your treatment?" he asked her.

Crystal looked at him and began walking toward the black van outside, "I think it's time."

He held open the door for her as she stepped inside, "Did you have a nice time?"

"I met a guy," she shrugged her shoulders fondly.

From a distance, Eric stood and watched her be taken away by the man and his team. He really did enjoy his time with her. He hoped in some way she would remember it, but it was unlikely.

"Dude, where's your friend?" one of his friends asked him.

"It's time for her to go. She had to get to her carriage before it turned into a pumpkin."

"What?" he wasn't making sense, but that could have been the alcohol's fault.

"Stroke of midnight."

"Midnight?"

"The end of the ball." Eric walked away to enjoy what remained of his party.

"Dude, it's like 5:30." His friend yelled after him.

DDDDDDD

The black van came to a stop in a private parking garage underneath a corporate building. Allison and Peter stepped out and walked over to an elevator where an armed guard was waiting for her.

"Hey, you think you could take me back to the party after my treatment? I want to see Eric again." Crystal asked Peter

"I'll wait right here." He said.

"You're good people." She smiled, stepping into the private elevator with the guard.

"Right," he said half-heartedly, the fake smile he plastered on for her falling.

Crystal was led down a hall and into an office. It wasn't a conventional office. It had a large window that overlooked the main floor from upstairs. There was a sitting area just a couple steps down, separated from the main part of the office by a railing. What was strange about it though was there was a mini trampoline in the sitting area, a giant fridge sitting in the corner, and a giant gumball machine sitting in another corner along with other various knick-knacks.

She was led into the smaller adjacent room. A chair was in the center, surrounded by a lot of sophisticated software and computer drives. She recognized the man in the room. Stiles Brink. He stood at a stationary computer next to the chair. His assistant, Cora led her behind a dividing screen in the room and handed her comfy clothes for the treatment.

As she got changed she started to express her opinions to them. Not really for their opinion, but to hear her thoughts out loud to help her through her decisions, "Maybe I shouldn't go back. The last thing I want to be is clingy, but you know when you just you meet someone and you know? If I'm wrong, I'll know. I mean, Eric can't lie to save his life. If he gives me that look, I'll walk away." She walked out and sat in the chair for her treatment. "But I don't know, I think he feels it, too. I think I found something real."

"I'm glad." Stiles said, not really concerned with what she was saying. He pressed something on the computer and turned to her, "This is gonna pinch a bit."

The chair began to slowly recline back. A blue light illuminated from the chair, and a pain surged through her body as memories flashed before her eyes. They began playing backwards as if they chronicled her life. She saw herself and the man at the van. She saw Eric. He gave her the necklace, the start of his birthday celebration, their meeting at the coffee shop before they agreed to their wild weekend of fun. Then even further back through her childhood, until there was nothing left. It was all gone. The chair rose and she turned to look at Stiles.

"Hello, Allison. How are you feeling?" he asked with a very soothing tone.

"Did I fall asleep?" she asked simply.

"For a little while." He replied.

"Shall I go now?" she asked.

"If you like." He said with the same soothing tone.

Allison got up from the chair and walked out of his Stiles' office. She walked down the stairs into a giant open area where other young attractive men and women wandered the room just like her. There was a massage area, a corner where others were making artwork and another where they were doing yoga. It was a very calm and relaxing environment.

Stiles took out an electronic hard drive from the head of the chair and walked into his office where Peter was waiting for him.

"Everything go all right with the imprint wipe?" Peter asked.

"Why don't you just ask Allison? Oh, that's right, because she can't remember." Stiles stored the hard drive on a shelf and closed it, turning to face Peter, waving his arms for effect. "Of course, it went all right. The imprint's gone. The new moon has made her a virgin again. Is there some reason it shouldn't have? Did something happen during the engagement?"

"I think she finally met the right guy." Peter said honestly.

"You're so jaded, and at such a middle age." Stiles teased, "She had fun, right?"

"She thought so." Peter said.

"There's nothing good or bad, but thinking makes it so, man friend." Stiles replied, "We gave two people a perfect weekend together. We're great humanitarians."

"Who would spend their lives in jail if anyone ever found this place." Peter stated the obvious. Despite his position here, he often cast doubt on the humanity of it all.

"We're also misunderstood, which great humanitarians often are." Stiles was truly convinced of what they were doing here. Maybe he really believed in their cause, or maybe it was because he was the brain genius that got to satisfy his scientific exploits on a daily basis. He walked over to the railing above his sitting area and looked out the giant second floor window overlooking the entire floor. "Look at Allison. Not a care in the world. She's living the dream."

"Whose dream?" Peter asked skeptically.

"Who's next?" Stiles asked excitedly.

DDDDDDD

Derek DeWitt sat in his office on the very top floor of the corporate building, consulting with a brand new client client.

"In their resting state, our Dolls are as innocent and vulnerable as children. We call it the tabula rasa, the blank slate. Now imagine the imprint process filling it, creating a completely new personality. A friend, a lover, or a confidant in a sea of enemies. Your heart's desire made flesh. And when the engagement has been completed, all memory of you and your time together will be wiped clean," Derek finished his description. He wore a smirk on his face. He did quite enjoy giving his sales pitch.

Matthew Connell sat in the armchair, holding a glass of whiskey in his hand. He was impressed with the process. Despite that he was still skeptical. It was in his nature to be. After all, this situation wasn't exactly an ordinary one. Not to mention the element of risk that went along with just consulting with the infamous Dollhouse, a high tech organization that existed under the radar of the authorities.

"Neat trick." Matt said tauntingly.

"Tricks are illusions, Mr. Connell, constructed to deceive. What we offer is truth," Derek stated matter-of-factly.

"Rare commodity." Matt stated.

Matt was very impressed. Mr. DeWitt was a connoisseur with words. He'd have to be in order to appeal to the incredibly rich clientele that the Dollhouse caters to. Still, it was probably difficult to pull the wool over his eyes.

"Hence the exuberant price tag," Derek confirmed rather smugly.

"I've been with a lot of women, Mr. DeWitt. That's not bragging. That's just what you would call truth. And not one of them turned out to be who they said they were. Your services may be expensive, but at least this time, I'll be the one telling the girl what to lie about."

"She won't lie to you, Mr. Connell. Everything you want, everything you need, she will be. Honestly and completely."

"That will be something new." He took a drink from his glass.

"There is, however, one small problem." Derek stated, picking up a file from the table.

"I thought everything was good with the background check." Matt asked with curious concern.

"That's not our concern. Your engagement has been flagged as a moderate risk to our Doll. Nothing serious. However, our company policy requires a small additional fee against any unforeseen complications."

Derek handed the documents over to him. Matt took a look at the new figures and scoffed.

"Small, huh?"

"To my employers, very." Derek wore another smug smile on his face.

"Well if this girl's everything you promise, it will be worth it."

"Just make sure you return her safe and sound. Otherwise, there will be additional costs."

"I'll keep it low-key."

"And you must not mention that she came from here. Any mention of the Dollhouse will only serve to confuse her, and possibly bring her right back." Derek warned.

DDDDDDD

Agent Scott Ballard walked through the halls of the F.B.I. to his desk. He had been assigned the case designated Dollhouse some time ago. The case was considered a joke among the other agents. A make believe case assigned to him as a punishment in light of his recent screw-ups at the bureau. He might as well have been suspended. However, after looking into the details of the case, he didn't consider it a joke. In fact, he believed in it. The rich clientele that could help to keep it secret, the human desire to have their needs satisfied, and the idea of volunteers signing up to be part of the process to give people those needs. But it was the volunteers that really bothered him. In order to become a new person, someone capable of satisfying someone else's needs, the volunteer would need to have their original personalities removed. They may as well be murder victims walking around.

As Scott approached his desk, one of the nearby agents called out to him. "Hey, uh, Ballard? We got a call. A couple kids found a house in the woods all made of candy and gingerbread. Thought that might be up your alley."

"Oh, my God, that's hilarious." Scott answered sarcastically. He found two new files sitting on his desk that weren't there this morning. "Where'd these come from?"

"Oh, uh, Granny left them. Man, her teeth looked big." He teased.

He was beginning to push his buttons. "Why do I get the feeling you want to say something else to me?"

The man rose to his feet, "You know I would, but I don't want to accidentally fall down a rabbit hole by getting involved with you."

Before anything else could be said they were interrupted by Agent Rafael McCall.

"Ballard! My office!" He yelled.

Scott glared at the other agent and walked into his office.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Do you want to cause even more trouble and get suspended?" Rafael scolded him.

"I don't know you're acting like you care. You're hardly my superior officer." The pair had never gotten along. Rafael had always acted like was better than everyone else. As a result he took on the responsibility of being criticized when something went wrong in his department. Scott on the other hand was defiant of authority. He had a tendency to overreach beyond his boundaries. They were polar opposites constantly at odds.

"Any concern I show for you is so I don't have to catch shit later from our superiors. You're starting to piss people off by following ghost stories of a Dollhouse, me especially." Rafael glared at him.

"These aren't just stories. You'll see." Scott was defiant. Scott took his files and walked out of the office.

"Ballard! Ballard!"

DDDDDDD

Allison was laid back on the medical exam table. Dr. Lydia Martin was performing her routine post-engagement check-up. Dr. Martin wore a white doctor's coat. Under it she had a red blouse tucked into a plaid skirt, and had on red high heels. She would have been incredibly pretty if not for the scars on her face. Four perfectly linear lines had been carved into her. One scar went diagionally down across her forehead. Another one cut straight down on the right side of her lips. The last two cut across her nose to the left side of her cheek.

"Ow!" Lydia was examined Allison's leg. Noticing the tension, she had pressed into it.

"Yeah, this feels very tight, and you have some light bruising. I think something fell on it." She grabbed a clipboard of the table and flipped through the results, "But other than that, your blood work and internals all look good. I'll just ask one of the staff to work on your leg. Would you like a massage?"

"They're relaxing," she stated simply.

"I'll set that up."

"I don't remember what fell on me," Allison asked confused. She looked at Lydia expecting some kind of answer.

"Does that bother you?" Lydia asked, truly curious. Dolls had very little self-awareness and usually just took directions from the staff. They were usually so innocent; they tended not to ask questions that could be potentially thought provoking.

"Should it?" Allison asked simply.

"No," Lydia was almost disappointed. Allison's question was just a coincidental instance. She still looked to others for direction. "We'll take care of you."

"Does someone take care of you?" Allison reached her hand out to touch Lydia's scars. She shifted away from her hand before she could touch them.

"Why don't you go wait in the massage area?" Lydia said quickly. That had made her uncomfortable. The Dolls almost never mentioned her scars, let alone try to touch them.

Allison stood up from the table and wondered out on the main dollhouse floor toward the massage area. She looked up and saw flashing blue lights coming from upstairs. The room with the giant window looking out over the Dollhouse floor had the curtains drawn. She made her way upstairs. The room where she had fallen asleep earlier was closed. She opened the door into Stiles' office, seeing the blue sparks coming from the clear doors on the other side of the room more clearly. She walked over cautiously, pushing the door open. What she saw didn't make much sense. There was a blonde woman sitting in the chair, covered in wires and pads, with several people standing around her. She was convulsing in pain.

"She's not asleep." Allison stated concerned. Everyone was shocked by her presence. They turned to look at Stiles.

"Allison!" He rushed over to usher her out of the room, turning to address the scientists in the room, "Just keep mapping the tissue!"

"She hurts." Allison said pointing to the doors as Stiles closed them behind him.

"She does. That's because it's her first time, and, uh, we have to do more work on her." Stiles was trying to keep it simple. The last thing he wanted was one of the Dolls to freak out while the chair was in use. Lord only knows what kind of nightmare it would be trying to get a Doll into the chair after seeing something like this.

"Work?" She didn't understand.

Dr. Martin walked up the stairs and noticed the interaction. She tucked herself behind the sill of the door, wanting to stay out of the direct line of sight. She stared at the pair as they talked.

"We're making her better! In a little while, she'll be strong and happy, and she'll forget all about this and you will have a new friend living here with you. Her name is Erica." Stiles went on.

"Erica." Allison seemed to relax with the new information.

"Yeah, aren't you supposed to be getting your physical with Dr. Martin, far away from here right now?" Stiles raised his voice, noticing Lydia standing by the door.

"We're ready for your massage Allison." She came out to make presence fully known, as if she hadn't been spying on the two. She grabbed Allison by the hand and began to lead her outside.

"Something fell on me." She turned to tell Stiles.

"I bet it was something great." He said with a kind of awkward optimism. He noticed Lydia was still staring at him as she led Allison downstairs. Was she glaring at him? Had he done something to her?

DDDDDDD

Scott walked down the hall to his apartment, fiddling with the keys in one hand while he held his files in the other. The door across the hall opened, and Kira Chuang walked out, holding a glass pan of lasagna. She had on a yellow apron over a red blouse and a flower skirt.

"Hey neighbor!" she said excitedly.

"Hey Kira" said Scott, stopping to take in the sight of the pretty girl. She had moved in some time ago, and lately they had been talking more and more.

"I was making some food and had some leftover lasagna. I figured I'd see if you wanted any."

"You know it's only leftovers after you've already had some." He stated, eyeing the completely full pan.

"Oh, ugh, no. I can make more, I mean I..I made...more. I made another one that I ate. I mean I didn't eat the whole thing, but I…Oh pretty. Who's she?" She was flustered; her cheeks tinted a light shade of pink. She saw the girl's picture on the file he was carrying and leapt at the chance for a subject change.

Scott flipped the file over to stare at the picture. "Nobody according to the FBI database. There's no record of her."

"Is she in trouble?"

"Maybe. All I know is she needs my help, and I'm not gonna stop until I find her. How about a raincheck on the lasagna?" He smiled at her and walked into his apartment.

As soon as the door was closed, she turned to walk back into her apartment, thinking about the woman in the picture that Scott was so interested in. "Lucky girl" she said.

Scott took a seat on the couch shedding his business jacket and loosening his tie. He had glanced through the files before getting home. He looked at them more closely now. One only had the picture of the girl. The name "Crystal" was written on the back, along with a message that said "Keep Looking." Cryptic, but that meant there was someone out there that had information. The other file was more of a lead to go on.

He opened it and took out a picture of a young man, tall, pale, with curly brown hair. Maybe dirty blonde. It was hard to tell from just a picture. The file listed his name as Victor Lubov, a Russian informant. He was associated with the Borodin family, a Russian mob family that specialized in trafficking young girls. Maybe they supplied girls to the Dollhouse? It was worth a look. The file had a list of his known hangouts, mostly clubs. If he pressured him, maybe Lubov could leave him to potential Dollhouse clients through the Borodins. He had a new target to search for.

DDDDDDD

The next day, Matthew Connell and Allison stood at the top of a cliff in the woods. She stood closer to the edge, looking out over the forest in the afternoon light. Matt stood back, taking pictures of her as she walked along the cliff. She stopped when she noticed the sound of the shutter and turned to look at him.

"Are you taking pictures of me?" she asked, a smile crossing her face.

"You looked beautiful." He said simply, "It's better when the light and movements are natural."

"You know that that's so adorable that it's almost not creepy." She teased.

"It's not creepy. Photographers call them candids." He defended himself.

She walked up to him and pulled the camera out of his hands. "Yeah, and police officers call it stalking."

"You're supposed to love my pictures." He said sadly. Was she defective? One of his specific requests was an unwavering adoration of his craft.

She scrolled through the pictures, "I do. I just like to tease you about them. Besides, how can I hate such beautiful subject matter?" She held up the camera showing a picture of herself to him.

"You are everything I thought you would be Sarah." He said adoringly.

"Well I would hope so after all this time." She kissed him and put the camera back into his hands, walking back over to the edge, "Maybe I should just pose casually by this cliff."

"Well I it won't be as special if you…" Before he finished, Allison lost her footing and slipped.

"Oh God!" she screamed. She didn't fall, but a rock had given out under her foot and fell over the edge. She began laughing hysterically looking over at Matt. "Oh my god, you should have seen your face!"

"Do have any idea what kind of trouble I'd be in if anything happened to you?" he asked, his heart was beating incredibly fast.

"Yeah, my brothers would kill you." She said.

"Yeah. How about we go the cabin now? Before you give me another heart attack."

She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Well how do you know I won't give you another kind of heart attack when we get there?" she asked seductively.

"Only one way to find out." He smiled.

Nearby in the woods, Peter Langton sat stationed in his van with the driver. He looked at the monitors that told him what Allison's vitals were during an engagement. He was busy talking to Stiles over his headset.

"What about her adrenaline?" Peter asked.

"Uh, it's within engagement parameters." Stiles answered.

"Are you sure? She's elevating toward redline." Peter asked concerned.

"Relax, Mountain Man. I've been reading the squigglies long enough to discern the diff between excitement and "Sweet mother of god, I'm gonna die." She's fine." Stiles walked around his office playing with a bouncy ball, "Hey go soak up some nature. Okay, like, uh, smell the honey. Hassle a grizzly. Leave the science to the science guy."

Peter hung up as the driver finally spoke, not bothering to pry his eyes away from the magazine he had brought, "I hate the woods."

"Yep." Peter replied.

The sound of an engine could be heard starting. The driver could see Allison and Matt driving off.

"Looks like they're leaving."

He dropped the magazine and started the engine.

DDDDDDD

Over at a day club, Scott Ballard watched as Victor Lubov partied with some other friends, surrounding himself with beautiful women. He was chatting people up and passing out drinks. Scott kept his distance by sitting at the bar.

"You're a talker new guy. I like a talker." Scott spoke to himself.

Victor got up and made his way to the bathroom, Scott waited a minute and followed behind him. Victor stood at urinal stall as Scott walked in, quietly locking the door behind him. He pulled the gun out of his pants and pressed it to the back of Victor's head.

Victor froze feeling the weight of the gun press into his skull, "You're about to make a very bad mistake." The thick Russian accent was unmistakable.

"Dollhouse." Scott said.

"What?" Victor dared to turn his head just a little.

"Dollhouse. Say it." Scott demanded.

"Dollhouse."

"Say it again."

"Your brains are….!" Scott clicked the safety off, "Okay, dollhouse! Doll freaking house! I'll keep saying it. It's fun to say. Dollhouse, dollhouse, dollhouse, dollhouse."

"You see the Borodins, you say it some more." Scott said

"You think you want to mess with the Borodins?" Who was this guy? Screwing with the Borodins was a good way to end up in pieces.

"No, but they supply girls, some of them very high-end, to fine, upstanding clients. Find out who's connected to the Dollhouse, the Borodins won't be touched, and you'll never see me again."

"I haven't seen you yet."

Scott stuffed the gun back into his pants and unlocked the door, stepping back out, "You will. Wash your hands….. and your shoes."

Victor turned to look, but he was gone. He zipped his pants back up and sunk his head. He couldn't come to this club anymore, or wear these shoes again.

DDDDDDD

As Peter and his partner John followed Allison and Matt in the van, john saw a police car pulling up behind them.

"We got company." Said John

They turned off down a dirt road and immediately parked the car. They would be able to use the tracking device on Allison to catch up with her after they ditched the cop. They both jumped out, Peter holding a map. The cop parked behind them, walking over as the two began to argue.

"Alright, looks like we're there," said John.

"No, I'm telling you, we're not there," Peter acted, holding the map up to show him. "We're somewhere over here. There is where we want to be. Here is not there."

"Excuse me. This area's restricted. No vehicles off the main road" the officer informed them.

"Sorry, uh, we-we're completely turned around. Do you mind pointing us in the right direction?" Peter asked.

"What you fellas doing way out here?"

"Local news. We're shooting B-roll for a piece about the push to open up the area to more logging."

"You got some ID to go along with that story?"

"Sure." Peter handed him a fake I.D. card that claimed he was with the news. Another one of the perks of working with the Dollhouse.

"Can't be too careful, Mr. Crehan." The officer handed him back his I.D. card, "Being so far off the beaten road tends to attract an unsavory element," said the officer.

"No worries, Officer. We couldn't be more savory." Peter smiled at him. At least things didn't have to get ugly.

The officer quickly drew his side arm and shot John three times in the chest. John fell back dead, and Peter stood in shock at the sudden turn of events. The officer had the gun trained on him. This guy was no cop.

He smiled at Peter, "Good to know."

DDDDDDD

Allison and Matt arrived at his cabin, and she was overwhelmed with the amount of photography posted on the wall. Each individual photograph was framed and covering almost every inch of the wall. It was beautiful the way they blended together. It was almost like looking at a quilt of artistic expression.

"Mattie this is amazing!" she beamed.

He laughed, "Thank you. Some people tend to find it kind of creepy."

"Are you kidding? I've never seen anything like this. You really are talented." She turned and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed him passionately and the pair fell back onto the couch. He stopped kissing her and she raised her head in response. He brushed her hair behind her ear, and stared deeply into her eyes.

"You look so beautiful," he said.

She laughed. "I'm not the first girl you've brought here, am I?"

"No, but so far…. You're the only one that hasn't been a disappointment," he said adoringly. "It's such a shame this has to end."

She looked at him confused, but still smiling. "What are you talking about?"

"We can't stay like this. I wish we could have more time, but I have to do this faster than usual." He stood up.

"Okay Mattie you're really not making any sense."

"It's okay. It doesn't have to. Just trust me. I'm gonna go get us some wine, okay?"

"Okay," she said hesitantly. That was weird. What was he up to? Maybe he had some kind of trip planned he was scared to tell her about. Well she wasn't going to pressure him. Mattie hated that. Better to let this play out.

Matt walked back in with two full glasses of wine. She took the proffered glass and they clinked them together.

Allison took a drink, "So Matt, what were you trying to say to me?" Okay, so she lied. She was going to pressure him, but it was for his own good.

"There are things you don't understand Sarah. I'm not what you thought. I'm a part of something I don't want to take part in, but I have to." He looked into her eyes, all signs of joy gone from his, "I'm a monster. I turn into a monster. Not by choice, but because I need to. That's why he told me to find you, because you really are something special." He stood up and placed the wine glass on the table.

Allison put her glass down and started to get a little anxious, "Mattie that doesn't make any sense. In fact you're starting to scare me, and I….I…" Her head started spinning. She tried to stand and collapsed on the floor. The wine. Did he drug her?

"Mattie…. What?.."

Matt watched her try to crawl to the door. That dark desire was starting to take hold of him. He walked over and crouched in front of her.

"I turn into a monster, and you know I'm not sure why he got me to take you if he thought you were so special. I turn into this monster and I have no control. But what about you Sarah? What do you turn into?"

"What?"

"Yesterday, you weren't a nurse, or a dominatrix?" Her vision was starting to blur. He smiled at her, "You really don't understand what's happening around you, do you?"

She looked up at him, and she could have sworn he was holding a knife in his hand. The light shrouded his face in darkness, and that was the last thing she saw before blacking out.

DDDDDDD

Stiles was looking over the monitors when he noticed Allison's bio-links began spiking with excessive amounts of fear and anxiety. Stiles quickly dialed Peter on the phone to try and find out what was going on.

"Uh, you getting this, man-friend?" Stiles asked, awkwardly concerned.

" Yeah, I'm getting it." Peter stated plainly.

Peter was sat in the van, the faux officer holding the gun to his head while Peter answered the call.

"Okay, uh see these squigglies? These are the not-so-goods. What the hell's going on over there?" Stiles asked.

"Everything's fine." Peter said.

"You sure?" Stiles couldn't believe that bio-readings like this could be fine.

"Yeah." Peter turned his head slightly to look at the gun he was holding, "Except for the gun pointed at my head." Peter dropped the phone and crashed into the officer, forcing the gun away from him and causing it to go off and blow out the monitors.

"Peter?!" Stiles yelled, "Buddy?! Peter?!"

Peter slammed the officer into one side of the van, blocking the punch with his arm. The officer threw an uppercut into his stomach, causing Peter to collapse against the other side of the van. Peter quickly threw a punch to distract him while he kicked his leg out to knock the officer down to his knees. He maneuvered behind him and put him into a choke hold. The officer struggled, trying to get the upper-hand, but Peter was stronger than him. The officer quickly fell unconscious.

DDDDDDD

Christopher Dominic, the head of security stood in Derek's office, discussing agent Scott Ballard. His picture displayed on the monitor in Derek's office.

"He's a threat." Chris said sternly.

"Agent Ballard has been groping blindly for quite some time now. He knows nothing." Derek said dismissively.

"I know his type. A guy like this, something gets under his skin, he's not going to let it go until it's scratched out." Chris argued.

Derek appreciated how serious Chris took this job, but sometimes it could be a little irritating. "And how would you suggest we handle this?" he asked.

"Neutralize the risk before it becomes untenable," he stated with a completely neutral expression.

"Authorize a kill order!?" Derek rose to his feet, shocked by the suggestion, "On a federal agent? I think you overestimate his abilities."

"Even a blind dog can find a bone if he digs enough holes" he persisted.

"All the appropriate measures are being taken. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Dominic." Derek dismissed him.

"With respect, sir, I don't think you fully…"

The doors to Derek's office barged open, and Stiles came rushing in. They stopped to look at him. Stiles so rarely made a dramatic entrance. Sometimes he could be a little melodramatic in his own neurotic way, but never quite with such necessity.

"Hey, uh, sorry. I think we have a situation." Stiles said, "The kind you need to shoot at."

DDDDDDD

The faux officer that Peter subdued was now tied to a chair in the van. Peter shed his jacket, leaving him in a grey v-neck. The gun held firmly in his hand. Peter slapped him until he woke up. He looked up at Peter groggily.

"How many?" Peter demanded.

"What?" The young man asked.

Peter shot him twice in the legs and the man cried out in pain.

"How many men between me and the girl?" Peter yelled.

"I don't know! I don't know. I swear to God!" The man strained to get his words out to avoid any more potential pain, "A guy hired me over the phone! I never met him! I was just supposed to get you to stall the response team."

"And then put a bullet in my head." Peter said distastefully.

"Hey, it's business. Don't take it personal, dude." The man said simply.

Peter shot him again in the shoulder, "AAHHH! FUCK!" Then he struck him across the face and knocked him out.

"I don't."

DDDDDDD

Allison woke up, she felt delirious and light headed. She opened her eyes and saw a woman standing beside her, but she couldn't see her face. She was in a basement. There were tool shelves around, and it was dimly lit.

"Hey. Can you help me? Please." She called out to the woman.

The woman turned around, and it was herself, "We also said no ropes. Look how long that lasted"

"What?" She looked down and saw her hands and legs were bound to a chair. She quickly looked back up, but the girl that looked like her was gone.

"You're awake." Allison looked up to see a young girl sitting across from her, also tied to a chair. "It's okay, the drug wears off after awhile, but you will see things."

The young had shorth brown hair, and tan skin. Her eyes looked weary. It was hard to tell how long she had been here.

"Who are you?" Allison asked

"My name's Davina. Yours?"

"Oh good, it's nice to see you two getting along." Matt walked into the basement, smiling at the two.

"Mattie. Why are you doing this?" How could she have been so wrong about him? This wasn't right. This isn't what was supposed to happen. This wasn't happening.

"Like I said, I'm a monster. I can't help it really." He said with feigned innocence.

"Bullshit" The young girl said bitingly, "You're just a creepy psycho fuck."

Matt struck her across the face. "Now you will show some respect. I hold your life in my hands. You wouldn't want me to lose it right now, would you?"

The sat there and said nothing. Matt walked over to a shelf. He came back with duct tape and covered Davina's mouth.

"There. That's a considered improvement." He turned back to look at Allison, "She's not special like you are. I don't really care what she has to say." He crouched down, his breath hot on her neck.

She turned to look directly in his eyes, "You're psychotic," she whispered.

"See, now you sound like her. That's not a good idea. Especially when I respond like this." He walked over to Davina and took out a knife, cutting a long line across her arm. She screamed, muffled by the duct tape.

"Mattie stop! Stop it."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt her yet. I just needed to make my point."

He slipped the knife into his pocket and crouched down in front of her, cupping her chin in his hand.

"Now I need to go to the shed and get some supplies. So don't you go anywhere." He taunted.

"I am going to kill you." She threatened.

"That would be a neat trick."

Matt walked up the steps. Allison sat and watched the silent tears roll down Davina's face. She sat there listening to Matt walk upstairs. When she stopped hearing the footsteps, she sprung into action. She maneuvered her feet to gain more leverage.

"Don't worry, I grew up in a military family." Allison tried to comfort Davina. Now was not the time for her own tears. She had to be strong if she was going to get them out of this. "I was kinda the black sheep, because I wanted to be girly and artistic, but I picked up a couple of things. Like this." Allison used what leverage she had to throw herself backwards, breaking the chair. She got up and tore off her restraints, quickly rushing over to Davina. She ripped off the duct tape, while Davina held back a scream, and released her from the chair.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Allison took her hand and led her over to the stairs.

They were making their way up the stairs when they heard the door open and footsteps move across the floor above them. Allison looked around and saw a window on the far side of the basement floor.

Allison ushered her back, "Go, go, go."

She grabbed a metal pipe off the shelf and used it to push the window open. She crouched down in front of it, lacing her hands together.

"Come on, I'll boost you up." She lifted Davina up through the opening. She made it through and then she stuck her head back inside, holding her hand out for Allison.

"Take my hand and let's get out of here."

Before Allison could haul herself through the window, the basement door opened. She froze in place, looking at Davina before pushing her through the window, "just go. Get out of here"

"No, come with me. We can both…"

"Just go. Get help. Go now." Allison pushed her out and jumped down and held the metal pipe to her chest as she tucked herself behind the corner of the stairs. She waited until he came closer to her before she lunged out from behind the corner and swung at him. He caught the pipe in his hands, but it wasn't Matt. It was Peter.

"Wait. Wait," he panted. His shirt was soaked with sweat from trudging in the woods.

He was so familiar to her, "Do I know you?" she asked hesitantly.

"We met a while back. Don't worry. Everything is going to be alright."

"Now that you're here," she said. It was almost like an impulsive response she couldn't help.

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life," and she did. But she barely knew this man. How could she trust him so certainly? Given the circumstances it was probably better than waiting for Matt to come back.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

Peter led her upstairs. There was something so safe about him. Something that made her feel at ease. It didn't make sense. She didn't even remember him. As they were making their way out of the front door she saw Peter standing outside an elevator, wearing a business suit and waiting for her. She froze, feeling dizzy again.

"Hey, are you okay?" he stopped in the open doorway.

"I'm okay, whatever he gave me is messing with my head."

"He drugged you?"

"He used it to knock me out. The other girl said it would wear off, but I've been seeing things."

"What girl? What have you seen?" He asked urgently.

"I helped her get away. Her name was Davina."

"What have you seen?" he demanded again.

"A girl that looks like me but isn't, a man with a knife and no face, and you…. I saw you waiting for me, outside an elevator."

Peter stood there in the doorway, watching her with concern. He was going to say something when he felt a sharp pain in his side. He grabbed at it, feeling an arrow sticking out of his side. Allison fell back onto her hands scared. She looked outside and saw Matt standing there with a crossbow. He was loading another arrow and preparing to fire. She grabbed Peter and used all her strength to haul him inside. She slammed the door closed just as an arrow shot through it, sticking out right next to her head. She lifted Peter up and started carrying him downstairs.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she sat him down. She ran upstairs to block the door to keep him from getting in.

"I'm making sure he can't get to you while I go and take care of him."

"No. You can't go after him. You don't have the right impr….." He froze, he almost mentioned something about the Dollhouse, "You don't have the right training."

"I don't care. This guy can't take women and hurt them. He can't blame it on an irresistible need that turns him into a monster."

"Do you mind speaking a little more clearly? I'm kinda bleeding out over here."

"He has to be stopped. Otherwise he's going to keep hurting people, and I'm gonna stop him."

Peter saw a determination in her eyes. Something that was unique to her. He held out the gun he took from the officer, "Do you know how to use this?"

She grabbed it from him and cocked the gun, "Four brothers. None of them Democrats. You should keep this in case he.." Peter cut her off by pulling a revolver out of the back of his pants.

"You didn't think I was going to give you my only gun did you?"

She smiled and walked over to the window.

DDDDDDD

Matt unlocked the cabin door using his key. He saw the blood drops that lead to the basement door and went over to try and open it. He unlocked the door and tried to force it open, but something was blocking the door. He kept hitting when his phone started ringing. It was the number the Dollhouse had given him as Allison's phone.

"Hey baby. How's your buddy doing? He's losing quite a lot of blood." He smiled.

"I'm only going to give you one chance. Drop the crossbow and give up now, or I am going to kill you"

"What are you going to do? Throw stuff at me?"

"No, I'm going to shoot you with the gun my buddy gave me. You're playing my game now. Toss the bow or I blow your freakin' head off."

"You know I'm still gonna kill you."

Three shots wized by him as he crouched down to avoid the shots. He felt a pain in his arm, a bullet had grazed his bicep, and he looked over to see a broken window, and a figure running around outside. He ran outside to tail her.

Allison made a quick loop around the house and ran back inside, closing the curtains and locking the door. Suddenly her phone started ringing. She struggled to get it out of her pocket before he heard it. She took it out. It was Matt calling. She answered it.

"Hey swettie. If you don't want the big bad wolf to find you, you really should turn off your phone." She heard glass crunching and spun around to the broken window, pointing her gun. Matt was there pointing his crossbow at her. "Is this the best date ever or what?"

"Put it down, or I put you down." She threatened.

"Look at you. You're shaking. Probably couldn't even hit me if you fired."

"Yeah?" She dropped the phone and held the gun with both hands, "You wanna find out?"

"I admit I'm curious. Concerned, but curious."

She noticed the blood dripping from his arm, "How's that arm? Maybe I'm not the one that's going to miss."

"How about this? We both just lower our weapons, and call it a draw."

"You'll let me go?" she said disbelievingly.

"Sure. No harm no foul."

"You poisoned me, tied me to a chair, and shot at me with arrows." She spat.

"Okay so maybe a little harm. On the count of three."

"One." They started to lower their weapons, hesitantly.

"Two."

"Three," both their weapons rested at their side, looking at each other.

They both brought their weapons back up and fired, diving to the side simultaneously to avoid the shot from each other, their weapons falling out of their hands as they hit the floor. Allison got up and tackled Matt to the floor. She punched him in the face, over and over, until he pushed her to the ground. He began to strangle her and she struggled. He was stronger than her and she couldn't find the leverage. She was going to die. He smiled manically down at her as he squeezed her throat.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw herself standing over them. Her hair matted and wearing a black outfit that had been ripped.

"I was just trying to make a difference," she said looking down.

Allison followed her line of sight and saw an arrow lying in the ground next to him. She reached out and grabbed it, plunging the arrow into his back. He yelled and stumbled back, slumping to the floor. He tried to stand but fell back to his knees. He looked up at her, impressed.

"You said you were gonna kill me. Nice follow through." He fell to his side, fading out of consciousness, "He was right about you. You really are special."

His head fell to the floor, his body going limp. Allison went around the house back down the basement. She hauled Peter to his feet and carried him up the stairs. She pushed the barrier off the door and pulled him into the front room. As they approached the door they heard a groan. Matt had gotten back up on his knees. Apparently he wasn't dead quite yet. Before they could react the door behind them blew open and they dove to the side. A blonde woman in full combat gear came through the door and shot Matt in the chest, causing him to fall back.

Peter recognized her as the new Doll, Erica. "We were coming out. You didn't have to kill him," he said. His ex-cop experience made him feel like justice still had some semblance of value, even in this situation.

"Is she injured?" Erica asked plainly.

Peter looked at Allison, "are you alright?"

"Yeah."

"Then get over it." A full team of people came in behind Erica, wearing masks and cleaning up the area. Several men grabbed Peter and Allison and took them to a helicopter outside the cabin. They were going back to the Dollhouse. They were safe.

DDDDDDD

Derek stormed into his office, Chris trailing behind him.

"The background checks are supposed to prevent this sort of thing. How is it that you missed the fact that Connell is a psychopath?" Derek accused him.

"Because Matthew Connell doesn't exist. Nothing in his jacket was real. His entire background from birth to college to his referral here, all of it was fabricated. I've never seen anything this intricate." He said. That seemed to spark a realization in Derek.

Derek walked over to his file cabinet, and began searching through them, "What about the man that Langton subdued in the van? Have you interrogated him yet?"

"He was dead when we got there. But not from his run-in with Langton."

"What about the clean-up crew?"

"The scene has been wiped. The girl, Davina Crestejo, was found and returned to her family, but Connell's body went missing in the transfer. We have teams searching for him now."

"I don't think that will be necessary. His accounts have been overdrawn. I have no doubt that he will spend every last cent trying to escape our grasp." Derek smirked.

"He may try to come back." Chris warned.

"Search if you want to Mr. Dominic. Either way the situation has been contained." Derek walked over to him and handed him a file. "Now, how are we going to contain this?"

Chris opened the file. In big bold letters, the cover said "KANIMA."

DDDDDDD

Allison had come back from an imprint wipe. Stiles had taken extra care to make sure there were no residual memories from the drug. The point of the Dolls being in the house was they weren't supposed to remember anything. They needed to remain simple so the staff could care for them without conflict. Dr. Saunders insisted on her own tests despite Stiles claiming it wasn't necessary. Allison walked across the large open floor toward the pool area. A man came out from the corner and she bumped into his side.

"Sorry." She kept walking not thinking about what just happened, or who she bumped into.

"Are you?" Chris Dominic stopped and turned to look at her. Allison stopped dead in her tracks. She turned to look at Chris.

"Am I?" She asked confused.

"Sorry? Are you really sorry?" He had a mocking tone in his voice. One that quickly turned into judgement, "Awful lot of people seem to end up dead around you. How's it make you feel? Oh, that's right. You don't feel anything, unless we tell you how and what and when."

He really didn't make sense. Maybe she needed to tell him what she was going to do, "I'm going to swim in the pool," she said simply.

"If it were up to me, I'd put you in the Nemeton, or in the ground…. Yeah, like talking to you is going to make a difference." He crouched down in front of her to look into her eyes, "Yeah. There's nobody in there."

He stood up tall and walked away. Allison stood there, watching him. That comment had bothered her. She couldn't explain why. Something about it just got to her. As she watched him walk away she said, "I was just trying to make a difference."


	2. Episode 2: Five By Five

**Authors Note: Once again, I own absolutely nothing. This story is just for fun, and is dedicated to my Tumblr friends. I post spoilers on my Tumblr page at ultimateresidentevilgame, if anyone is interested. Just note that I also post other stuff there aside from the spoilers. It may take me awhile to upload the next chapter because that one is the least developed, but I hope you like this one, so that it may keep you interested until the next chapter is finished. I will try to have it done within a week.**

**Episode 2: Five By Five**

**THREE MONTHS AGO**

Inside the Dollhouse the emergency lights flashed, illuminating the halls in a red glow. A group of Dolls were being led to their sleeping pods, a separate room where seven beds were set in the floor in a giant circle. The staff guided them as calmly as possible, but the Dolls were scared.

"Please get into your beds." The woman said as calmly and urgently as possible.

The Dolls looked at her confused. One of the girls was especially anxious, "But we haven't taken a shower. We always shower before..."

The staff woman cut her off, "Everything's going to be alright. Please get into your beds." They had to stay calm before things got way out of hand. The Dolls got into their individual pods and waited as a glass pan began to seal each individual pod, locking them in and keeping them safe.

Over in the main hall, Christopher Dominic was leading a heavily armed strike team. Something had occurred in the main hall, but it was difficult to discern what it was.

"Secure the exits. Anyone tries to breach, shoot them in the head." He ordered. He saw Stiles standing in the middle of the main hall, blood covering his sweater vest. He stood there completely still, almost like he was catatonic. Chris marched over to him, "Stiles. Stiles!"

At the sight of the strike team Stiles seemed to spring to life and become anxious, "Guns! Good, can I have one?" he asked desperately.

"What happened?" Chris demanded.

"Yeah, that's uh, that's the thing, he happened. He just…" Stiles gestured around the room, unsure of what to do.

"Who?" Chris yelled.

"Doctor Martin looks like a jigsaw puzzle, and what he did to Samuelson is just…" It was like Stiles didn't hear him. He was traumatized.

"Stiles! Who!?" Chris yelled at him again, shocking Stiles out of his state.

"Jackson." He said.

Derek came up to the pair at a quick pace. His appearance was frazzled, looking tired and stressed. He turned to address Chris, "It appears Jackson has had a composite event."

"He gets wiped after every engagement, like all the rest. How could he have possibly had a composite?" Chris was tired of the beating around the bush. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

"Can't…. Shouldn't….. Did." Stiles answered in fragments. He was reverting back to his catatonic state. His body language tensed up and moved away from Chris and his shouting. He shifted more in Derek's direction.

The radio on Chris's hip screeched to life, "Target acquired."

"Where?" He asked

"Level 3, corridor 37." The soldier replied. "We found….AHHH!" The call cut out as the man screamed.

"Move out." Chris directed the team and followed them down the hall, leaving Stiles alone with Derek in the main hall.

"Seriously, that gun?" Stiles asked desperately.

Chris and his team ended up in the shower hall. The shower hall was an open area, set in a circle. Showerheads were set in the ceiling, and were motion activated. The showers were co-ed. Due to the fact that the Dolls were kept so innocent while inside the Dollhouse, sexual attraction was never an issue. As Chris's team approached, the bodies of several dead Dolls were seen lying under the spray of the water. What was peculiar though was the single Doll still alive, sitting at the center of the carnage. Allison sat there, surrounded by the circle of dead bodies. Her naked body covered in splatters of blood. She turned to look at Chris.

"They won't wake up," she said, worried.

"Negative contact. Continuing sweep." Chris spoke into the radio. He was not going to let him get away.

DDDDDDD

**Present Day **

Derek sat in his office with a brand new client. He stood pouring himself a drink from the bar at the corner. His client, Shane Hardy, sat on the couch. He was fairly tall with a thick frame. He wore a suit that showed off his broad shoulders, and had short spiky brown hair. He looked at Derek, holding his own glass of whiskey, with curious intent.

"You'll forgive me if I don't fully understand what it is you do here," replied Shane.

Derek came and sat in the armchair across from him, "Not at all Mr. Hardy. That is the purpose of these consultation meetings."

"I hear a great many things about your process. Some of them suggest that your Dolls are soulless," said Shane, raising an eyebrow, waiting to see how he would answer.

"Nothing quite so melodramatic. There are many theories regarding our Dolls. Zombie slaves. Robots. Mostly people just think they are really good liars. But I can tell you that is not what this is. For them, this will be the truest experience they will ever have." Derek assured.

Shane decided to take a more direct approach. "How much choice do they have? Do they even have any level of free will?"

Derek was surprised by the sudden brashness of the questions. Clients rarely asked questions of this kind. They were usually more concerned with their personal desires and how well their secrets would be kept. "Well that depends. When they are here in the house, we keep them as innocent as children. They are susceptible to instructions so that we may properly care for them while they are here without any chance for conflict."

"And what about when they aren't in the house?"

"When they are on an engagement, they are completely capable of their own choices. A complete personality is constructed. They aren't just pretending, with small semblances of humanity. They become a full person, perfectly capable of free will and emotion. It is our job to construct a personality that will create an attachment to our client as they see fit."

"If they have free will, then why do they return here with you everytime?"

"Subliminal messaging and suggestions implemented by our scientists. When the engagement is complete, they will have a sudden compulsion to return to our facility without full awareness of what is happening here. On other occasions, a simple phrase can call them back if there is no definite end to the engagement. It is imperative that you say nothing of where they came from, it will only confuse them."

Shane smiled at Derek, "You say that as if I'm already a client."

Derek smirked, and leaned forward, putting his drink down and looking directly into Shane's eyes, "I can see that you want to be. Otherwise you wouldn't have come here. You have a need."

Shane leaned back, "We all have needs. That is not my concern. I am no stranger to illegal contractual obligations. What I am concerned with is people. I like to make sure the company I keep is fair in that respect."

"Hence the unusual concern for our Dolls." Derek realized, "I must say it is refreshing for someone to show genuine concern instead of just trying to have their desires sated."

Shane smiled at the compliment, "One more question before we talk about my desires. How long do you get to keep them?"

"Each one of our dolls has volunteered for a contractual obligation of 5 years. In exchange for their service, a significant amount of money is put into their accounts, and any personal problems that led them to us are subsequently wiped away."

"You must give this speech a lot." Shane smiled once again. He finished his drink and placed it on the table, "I'm convinced. You have a client. Now In my line of work, I find it hard to keep company that I can have a real connection with. I travel too often to have anything real."

"I understand. Our own desires often take a backseat to our careers. Sometimes the company of another can ease the tensions of a demanding life. It is very common for our clients to request someone who can give them a release from that."

Shane looked at him with intent, "You misunderstand. I don't just want someone to have sex with. I want something that feels real. Not someone who just pretends to care. I've dealt with that too often in my life."

"As I've said before, they won't pretend Mr. Hardy." Derek corrected, "Everything you desire and need, they will be."

"What's more is I need someone who can impress my business associates. When you reach our level of pay-grade, money doesn't have as much influence. My partners value personal stability. What better way to express that than with a perfect relationship?"

"I think you're a very clever man Mr. Hardy. We have several dolls you can choose from. I can assign you Allison, one of our most requested dolls; she delivers quite an air of professionalism."

"No offense Mr. DeWitt, but I'm not ashamed of being gay. I won't hide that, not even from my business associates. On the contrary, I would very much like to express that to them. Show them who they are dealing with."

"That's very admirable. Not many people are so forthright. In that case I can assign you Danny. I think you will take a great liking to him. We just need you to sign some forms and we will contact you when he is ready."

DDDDDDD

Peter sat shirtless on Dr. Martin's exam chair. His hands raised above his head as she wrapped clean bandages around his torso.

"You shouldn't have taken the arrow out. You could have bled to death, and a broadhead arrow does more damage coming out." She stated.

"I'll remember that next time I'm being bow-hunted by a maniac." He said sarcastically.

"Regardless, you're healing nicely." She took her clipboard and walked over to the computer to enter the results.

"So I'm certified to work?" He asked hopefully.

"I really would recommend you take a few more days to rest Mr. Langton." She urged. She was skeptical of his sudden desire to return to work.

"You can call me Peter." He smiled at her.

She stopped and turned to look into his eyes. "Is there a reason I'd want to?"

The pleasant approach didn't seem to be doing him any favors. He decided to be frank, "Look, if I'm not certified and Allison gets sent out again, she could end up with a stranger as her handler."

"We're all strangers to them." She stated. She was curious about his sudden attachment to Allison. He never seemed to care much for what went on here.

"She's my responsibility, and we both know there's someone out there. Someone who wants her dead."

She looked at him with apprehension. She conceded considering he wasn't technically incapable of performing his duties. She handed him a form, "You're certified."

"Thank you," he put his shirt on and got up to leave.

"And do keep a close eye. Someone else is watching." She warned him

"Someone always is."

DDDDDDD

The F.B.I. was canvassing a cabin out in the woods. After Davina Cretejo was rescued, her statement led them to a cabin registered to Matthew Connell. It was only in his possession for a few weeks. Yet there were bound to be more victims other than Davina, and searching the cabin was a good start.

Scott Ballard walked into the cabin, seeing Rafael and Agent Shaw, he made his presence known.

"Doesn't add up, does it?" asked Scott.

"Ballard? What the hell are you doing here?" asked Shaw.

"What doesn't add up?" Rafael approached him, "Why don't you give us the inside view on how this all leads to your precious Dollhouse? Or, here's a better idea. Why don't you go and let us do our jobs?"

"Doesn't add up, does it? Not all of it." He said again.

"What doesn't add up? The Crestejo girl has been returned to her family. She made her way out through the woods, found a nearby cabin, and called for help. Connell got scared, overdrew his accounts and disappeared. And now he's probably off somewhere loving life," reasoned Rafael.

"So is he the one packing the cannon?" asked Scott, tracing the frame of the blown out door with his finger. "He has to be. After all, the door's blown in and there's no weapon here. And one wasn't found on the girl when she was rescued."

"So what?" Rafael scoffed.

"After blowing the door in?" Scott challenged, "Which is funny. He's in the room, but then he has to blow the door in?"

"You think Mr. Crestejo sent someone after them?" asked Shaw.

"He swears he didn't, and he doesn't exactly have the resources for something like this," answered Scott.

"Hey, tell me you didn't go near my vic," stated Rafael with growing irritation.

"I just hear the talk. Situation fits a certain profile," answered Scott.

"Yeah, I know. Crestejo's rich, respectable, but maybe he's got a kinky side he doesn't want anyone to see, so he goes to the world-famous Dollhouse and hires himself a pretty lady to groove his move and then forget all about it."

Scott ignored him for the most part, only taking into account that he mentioned a girl, "That's what Davina called her."

"What?"

"Crestejo's daughter. She said the pretty lady came and saved her." Scott turned to the agent searching for evidence, "Hey Shaw, we get any pretty lady prints?"

"You did talk to my vic!" Rafael was starting to get pissed, but Scott still ignored him.

"We got the guy and the girl, no one else. And a couple areas definitely wiped down." Answered Shaw.

"Stop talking!" Rafael yelled at Shaw. He turned back to Scott, "So, what? So you're trying to tell me the Dollhouse sent one of its brainwashed beauties to take out a kidnapping lunatic?"

"I'd check it out." Scott smirked. He was really pushing his buttons today.

"Hey, Agent Ballard thinks we should investigate." Rafael said to Shaw. "Thanks for the tip. Why don't you just leave us to go find your pretty lady?"

"I will." Scott smiled and walked out.

Rafael watched him leave and yelled, "Be careful. Looks here like she's pretty bad-ass."

DDDDDDD

**THREE MONTHS AGO**

Peter Langton walked into the Dollhouse main hall, Derek DeWitt and his head of security following behind him.

"Welcome to the Dollhouse, Mr. Langton. You come highly recommended." Derek shook his hand.

Peter sized him up pretty quickly. He was tall, maybe taller than Peter himself. He had a rugged professional appearance and a slight British infliction in the way he talked. His muscular build was hidden under the business suit, but the sheer mass of his body suggested serious definition. If he had any combat training, he would be more than a challenge for Peter. His security guard had a more menacing look. Though not intimidating in stature, the intent was apparent in his eyes, and that made him far more dangerous than Derek.

"So the stories are true. Programmable people, sold to the highest bidder." Peter started.

"It's a little more complicated than that." Derek corrected.

"It always is." Peter stated. He followed Derek as he guided him through the facility.

"Science is very seldom exact, Mr. Langton. Being on the cutting edge invites a certain element of risk. In the light of recent events, we've decided to engage individuals with a more, shall we say, intensive background." He stopped and turned to look at him, "Which is why you're here. If you consent to the terms of your contract, you will be assigned to Allison, one of our Alphas." Derek informed him.

"What happened to her last handler?" Peter asked curiously.

"You're standing in him." Peter looked down to see a red stain in the wood floor. That comment hadn't come from Derek or his guard, but from a woman. He looked up to find the source. He came face to face with a young woman with fresh scars on her face, barely healing and still bright red.

"This is our resident physician, Dr. Martin. This is Mr. Langton, he will be replacing Samuelson." Derek introduced the two.

"Good. Does that mean I can get his body out of my office?" She asked.

"I'll take care of it." Chris finally spoke.

"Right. Everything's under control. It's nice to have you on the team. Watch where you step." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Her face?" Peter asked, trying not to come off as offensive.

"Dr. Martin is still recovering." Derek informed him.

"Was that caused by the same guy who killed Samuelson?"

"She was more fortunate." Derek deflected.

"I want to see Samuelson's body." Peter demanded.

"You really don't." Derek warned. His face was grim.

"Show me."

DDDDDDD

Chris and Peter stood in Dr. Martin's office. Chris pulled the blood stained sheet off the body lying on the exam table.

"Samuelson. He was a good man." Said Chris

"Not good enough." Peter stated apathetically.

"What do you make?" Chris wanted to see what he was capable of.

Peter started circling the body and examining the wounds. "Single blade, non-serrated, ten to 12 centimeters. Tendons in the extremities were severed first to disable him. And then the real work started. Knew exactly where to cut to cause the maximum amount of damage and pain. Whoever did this took their time."

"Twenty seconds. That's the timeline we've been able to piece together." Chris informed him.

Peter looked up surprised and disbelieving. He gestured to the body as if it would contradict what he was just told. "These cuts are almost surgical. I wouldn't have thought it possible to carve up a man like this so fast."

"It isn't. Unless you've been imprinted with the necessary skills."

"You're telling me you programmed one of your dolls to be Jack the Ripper?" he detested

"Not my department. All I know is that Jackson accessed multiple imprints, personalities that were supposed to have been erased. Earning him the codename Kanima."

"Why Kanima?" Peter asked curiously.

"A Kanima is something it's not supposed to be. A creature with no real grasp on its identity. In this case, it refers to Jackson's multiple imprints." He gestured to the body, "One of them did this, then slaughtered everyone around your girl before pulling a smoke-and-mirrors."

"So, why didn't he kill Allison?"

DDDDDDD

**PRESENT**

Dr. Martin and Peter stood over a body in her office. She pulled back the sheet to show him the identity of the victim. It was the man that had tried to kill him in the van. He was dead, new wounds carved into his body.

"That's not the way I left him," said Peter.

"The GSWs were nonfatal. Painful, but you avoided the major arteries," said Lydia.

"That was the plan. What about these other wounds?"

She picked up her charts and began to read off her findings. "Caused by a single non-serrated blade, approximately ten centimeters in length. The lacerations are precise, almost surgical."

"I've seen this before…... Kanima." He realized.

Lydia stopped looking at him, lowering her head in anxiety. "That's impossible."

"Isn't that what we do here? The impossible?" he challenged.

"Kanima is dead! After he…" Her emotions were starting to get the best of her. She took a moment to regain her composure. "After what he did they tracked him down and put a bullet in his brain."

"And they'd never lie to us about something like that, would they? Alpha could have killed Echo when he escaped, but he didn't. A wake of bodies, but he left her alive. Now someone hires some nut job to hunt her down in the woods. Maybe it was Jackson. Maybe not." He looked out the window to the man hall, spotting Allison being led upstairs by one of the staff, "Only thing I really know is it all leads back to Allison."

Chris came into the room, interrupting Lydia before she had a chance to answer. She took it as a cue to walk away from the conversation.

"Peter. Allison is being prepped for another engagement." Chris informed him.

DDDDDDD

Victor was busy driving, a beautiful woman in the passenger seat beginning to get frisky with him. He couldn't remember what her name was exactly, but he didn't care. His phone rang and he picked it up.

"Lubov," he answered.

"You don't write. You don't call. You're starting to hurt my feelings Victor," Scott said. He was marching through the halls of the F.B.I. He wasn't able to find Lubov in his usual spots after their first encounter and was irritated.

"How did you get this number?" Victor asked, the panic clear in his voice. He pushed the woman off of him and firmly into the passenger seat.

"I'll always know your number Victor, and where to find you." Scott said. It wasn't completely true, but it was better to add on the pressure early to make him more cooperative.

"Why do you keep bothering me? I am honest citizen."

Scott rolled his eyes. Honest citizen? Who did he think he was fooling? "And I'm the Easter Bunny. Dollhouse. Start hopping," Scott demanded.

"No, no. I told you, I don't know any Dollhouse." Victor tried to plead. He didn't know anything. Why the hell did this guy think he did?

"Then find another honest citizen who does. Don't make me come and find you." Scott threatened. He hung up the phone and went back to work.

DDDDDDD

"The problem is not insurmountable," said Derek.

"What problem?" asked the client. He was an older man. He was balding and had an accent that suggested he was from Europe, maybe Greece.

"Upon review, your engagement was flagged as having certain special requirements."

"Before, you tell me no one gets to know what I'm asking for," said the man, irritated that his private business wasn't so private.

"That's correct. However, our computers do calculate possible risks to our Dolls," Derek defended.

"But you don't know?"

"No one else knows the details of your engagements but you." That wasn't true of course. Some clients just preferred to think others were unaware of their desires. Some clients liked to boast to Derek. Others didn't really mind one way or the other, and consulted with him on what it was they wanted. It really was a matter of personal taste. The phone rang and Derek got up to walk to his desk.

"Excuse me. I'm very sorry." He answered the phone. "DeWitt…. Yes, sir, of course I understand your concern. Our main goal now is to complete this matter as quickly as possible." Derek casually brushed his hands over the Scott Ballard file as he talked. "Yes, the less time we give him to spin his own theories, the better, I think…. Well, he needs closure, and we are the experts at giving people what they need, aren't we?... Yes, sir, I'll keep you informed. Good..…bye."

Derek hung up the phone and put his business smile back on, turning back to his client. "I didn't offer you a drink. Tea or something stronger?"

"These computers say I have to pay more, I pay more."

"You're very understanding, Mr. Diakos. This way, please. Judith will handle the details." Derek led the man to the door.

"It is not for me, you know. This night it is a gift."

"You're a very generous man," Derek smiled.

DDDDDDD

Victor walked down the hall of the apartment building. He had his hoodie pulled up to try and hid his face. After some searching around he managed to learn the location of Agent Scott Ballard's apartment. He came up to the door and started to try and pick the lock. Before he could make too much progress on it however, the door behind him opened, and he was greeted with the voice of a young woman.

"Did you forget your key again?" Kira came out of her door smiling, stopping dead in her tracks when she didn't recognize the man. He pushed his hoodie down quickly and stuffed the lockpicks into his pocket, attempting to seem inconspicuous.

"Oh, I startle you, you startle me," he smiled at her.

"Can I help you?" she asked uncomfortably.

"I'm, uh, a friend of Scott."

"Really?" she asked skeptically.

"An old friend." He looked over at the door, "He told me he would be home."

"He should be back soon." Kira didn't like him. Something about him made her very uncomfortable.

"You're a friend of Scott, too? Good friend, yeah? Waiting by the door?" he moved closer to her.

"No, I just happened to be… we're not.." she took a step back, resting her hand on the door, subconsciously ready to slam it shut.

He tried to look past her, smelling something pleasant. "You're making coffee in there? Enough for two?" He tried to charm.

"Did you want to leave him a message?" she deflected.

"Here." Charm wasn't working very well. That was irritating. He pulled out a card out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Tell him to meet me Friday night at this place. Not at work. He comes by my work, he bothers me and my bosses get very mad."

"Where do you work?" she asked.

"You give him card." He dodged the question.

She quickly closed the door and locked it, he turned and left the apartment building.

DDDDDDD

Shane and Danny were riding an elevator downstairs. They had attended a fancy business party in one of Shane's corporate buildings. Shane was leaning against the back of the elevator while Danny rested his head on his shoulder.

"The party went well. Do you think your business associates liked me?" Danny asked, "They seemed a little distant. It's not because we're gay is it?"

"No. I think it's because they were jealous. I had the hottest date there," Shane turned his head and smiled at him.

The elevator doors opened, and he grabbed Shane's hand and pulled him into the lobby, "Well if that's true then why are we still here when everyone else has gone home?"

"I just needed to drop those files off in my office."

"Well as long as we get to go home." Danny stopped, turned around, and wrapped his arms around Shane, "Oh and by the way, I had the hottest date at the party."

Danny leaned forward and kissed him passionately. Shane had to admit he was enjoying his time with him. He wasn't pretending. He wasn't trying to get at his money. This was a genuine experience. Something he almost never had time for.

Danny came up for air and looked at him with lust blown eyes, "We should just do it in your office."

Shane smiled, "I am seriously considering it, but there's too much security here. They would catch us on tape."

Danny wiggled his eyebrows, "Sounds hot."

Shane laughed and started pulling him to the front exit by the hand, "Okay, how much did you have to drink?"

Danny pouted a little, "Don't pretend you don't want to. I will get you to have sex with me in that office."

As they approached the doors, a young woman came running in. She had a ripped blouse, and was holding a pair of high heels in her hand. She had been running. Her makeup was smeared by her tears. She saw Shane and Danny and collapsed to her knees in front of them.

"Please. Help me. There are some men out there. They tried to hurt me. I think they followed me here," she panicked.

Danny got down to her level and put his hands on her shoulder to calm her down. "Hey, it's okay. Look at me. What's your name?"

"Faith," she whimpered.

"My name is Justin, and this is Shane. Okay? We're going to take care of you."

Shane grabbed Danny's shoulder and then held his arm out to the young girl, "Come on. There's a security office over here. They won't be able to get to you and we can wait there while we call the police."

"Thank you."

Shane led them down a hallway, and down a flight of stairs. He entered a code into the door and led them both inside. The room was fairly large. Security lockers on one side and a desk on the other. Danny led her over to the desk chair to have a seat while Shane grabbed the phone on the desk. As Danny led her to the chair she dropped one of her high heels, and Danny bent down to pick it up.

"Do you know what the attackers looked…" Shane started to ask, but was cut off when Faith turned around and kneed Danny in the face as he was picking up her shoe, subsequently knocking him out.

"Justin!" She quickly came up and struck him in the head, knocking him out as well. She pulled a headset out of her blouse pocket and turned it on.

"We're in position. Door code's 489-374-83," she said.

Her team was making their way downstairs; carrying bags of equipment. Two guys and one girl, all dressed in black. The one in front, Grant, asked, "Are you alright?"

Allison looked down at the men she had just knocked out and answered, "Five by five."

DDDDDDD

Stiles was sitting at his office deck, running through his files when Lydia came rushing into his office, carrying her signature clipboard. She looked displeased. Although Stiles could hardly tell the difference. She always seemed displeased when he was around. He couldn't help but wonder if that was a pattern.

"You sent Allison out on a high-risk engagement?" Lydia criticized.

"Dr. Martin, hey, so good of you to annoy me," Stiles sighed.

"I had her flagged for romantic or altruistic engagements only," she threw her file on his desk. "Does anybody read these?"

"Her last romantic engagement turned out to be extremely high risk," he debated.

"She's a thief," she pointed out, "and what about Peter? He's not up to any serious physical threat."

Stiles stopped to look at her with a funny look on his face. It was like some kind of confused grin. "Peter? What are you guys, buddies now?" He stood up and started grinning like the Cheshire Cat, "Oh, god, of course you are. You both disapprove of everything. You're gonna get married and have scowly babies."

She looked at him with a dull and disappointed look, "Don't be an idiot."

"Not to stress." Stiles assured her, "It's a simple in and out situation. She has plenty of backup anyway."

DDDDDDD

Allison's partners were setting up their gear as Allison finished zipping up her black leather combat boots. Shane and Danny were sitting by a locker, their hands tied behind their backs.

"So, boss, what do we call you?" asked Grant. He was tall, and fairly handsome. He was practically a walking definition of tall, dark, and sexy. Suffice it to say he was the muscle, as well as the demolition expert of the group.

"You really call me Faith, and the client's the boss. He put together this merry band of thieves, and he decided that, well, I guess I am the boss of you," she smiled.

"Not taking them out's your first mistake" said Skye, standing over Shane and Danny, her hand holding the gun in her holster. She was about Allison's height, had long dark hair, and was very pretty. She also had a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. She was the computer genius of the group. Allison walked over to her and pushed her against the nearest wall, her arm pressing into her throat.

"Hey! I figured out on my first job when a little "creative thinking" on my part almost got me not paid, never second-guess a client." Allison made a quick side note, "And wear comfy shoes. Our client's paying premium for no-kill. He gets no-kill."

"I- I think you're hurting her," Fitz chimed in. He wasn't much taller than Allison or Skye. He wasn't much in the way of muscle either. Allison was pretty sure Skye could take him. He was here because he was an expert on rare artifacts and artwork.

"You're very astute Professor." Allison answered sarcastically. She released Skye and slapped her on the shoulder, "It's a good thing this is a no kill-job. You could have been in trouble there."

She turned to address everyone in the room, "Here's how this is going to go. In 64 seconds, the security building on the other side of that wall is going to be shutting down their motion sensors, infrared sensors, and security cameras. We will be in a Gray Hour. In the one hour it takes them to revolutionize their security system and make it impenetrable, we penetrate."

Fitz raised his hand timidly while speaking, "Uh, excuse me. If their system is down, they must know someone is going to try and break in."

Allison raised her finger to his lips as if to shush him. "That's six seconds we can't get back." She continued her speech, "Inside security: five guards, each with GPS tracking devices planted in their badges. The guards will be focused on perimeter threats. They're not allowed on the vault floor during Gray Hour for security reasons," She looked at Skye, who was busy working on her laptop, "You have 'em yet?"

"Not till we're inside. The sensors don't pick up any…"

Allison cut her off and looked over at Grant, who was busy laying explosives on the wall, "You ready to go boom?"

"Ready."

"We gotta sync our watches," said Skye.

Allison shushed her with her finger, "Uh, sweetie. You're on Faith designated time now." They all tucked themselves behind the locker with Shane and Danny, "And three, two, one. Go."

The explosion blew in the section of the wall, leaving a large tunnel into the halls of the security vault. They all grabbed their gear and started moved in. Faith grabbed Shane and Danny and lead them through the opening, not wanting to give them the chance to get away and call the police.

"A hundred people must have heard that," said Skye skeptically.

Grant replied excitedly, "Upstairs, they're just thinking a truck rumbled by. I am the best!"

Allison rolled her eyes as she guided their two prisoners, "Bladdy, blah. We're all the best, braggy." As they came up to the vault door she had Shane and Danny sit down next to her and began examining it, "So pretty."

Over in the corner Grant and Skye began talking, "If she's the best, it's kinda funny I've never heard of her."

"You've heard of Bonnie and Clyde, right?" said Allison, her hearing obviously better than they anticipated.

"Are you Bonnie?" asked Grant.

"No. I'm not that stupid," she said turning back to start working on the vault, "Bonnie and her gun-crazy beau, you know what they wanted? It wasn't to be the best. Bestness means a quiet, head-down kind of life. No, Bonnie and Clydie, they wanted fame. Notoriety. And boy did they get it. They also got dead, I'll pass on that. When this is over, feel free to forget I even exist. Now just keep it down while this little darling and I get to know each other better."

Skye was using her laptop to track down the security, "Coming online. Two seconds and I'll see the guards."

Fitz was busy watching the other interact and then looked back over to Allison, "What? She's in!"

Grant looked over and saw the vault door opening, "Damn!"

Easy to say they were all impressed. Even Shane and Danny were amazed, even if they were hostages in a vault robbery.

"Tick-tock, boys," said Faith. She grabbed Shane and Danny and pulled them to their feet. She let them go and indicated for them to follow her.

The vault was filled with statues and paintings. Fitz began moving around the room excitedly. "There are rumors of secret vaults used by top museums to store the world's most controversial works, but…"

Grant cut him off to address a painting of a man with a funny looking nose, "Yeah. Piccolo Boy here is shocking."

Fitz walked up to examine the painting, "Yeah, Piccolo Boy, as you call him, was recently stolen from a private collector in Paris. Valued at $17 million."

Allison just walked away, "Whatevs."

"So, we're stealing stolen art?" asked Skye.

"Well, some of these works are merely of questionable provenance. Basically, just high quality counterfeits. Antiquities, which are my particular forte."

"Hey, old stuff expert? Old stuff's in here." Allison called out from another section of the vault.

Fitz walked over and saw the rows of Greek statues, "Thank you, gods and goddesses."

Allison gave him a piece of paper, "Gray Hour's now Gray 45 minutes. This is what we're here for. Find it, tell me if it's the real thing, so we can pack it up and get the hell out of here."

"I thought it might be this. Why else would I have been chosen?" he smiled with absolute glee.

"Chosen for what? What are we taking out of here?" asked Grant.

"The Parthenon," he answered.

"Isn't that kind of big?"

DDDDDDD

Peter sat in a van outside the corporate building. The monitors were giving funny readings and fading in and out. He was on the phone with Stiles to try and fix the problem. He could see from the window Allison running into the building.

"Stiles, what's going on? My displays are crap."

"Allison's team is using a bunch of our tech to disable the primary cameras. What do you expect, HBO?"

"Can't you retask one of the auxiliary satellites and give me some more coverage?" suggested Peter.

"What's the magic word?"

"Please," Peter sighed.

"I was actually looking for "abracadabra," but that will do. Okay, re-tasking satellite. I'll just borrow Danny's for a few. He's on a romantic engagement and will not miss it. It's gonna take a few to move it into alignment."

"Thanks."

"Anything for you. 'Cause I love you. Deep, deep man love." Peter hung up. He wasn't too much in the mood for Stiles jokes. Stiles turned to Cora, "Cora! Call Danny's handler and tell him I had to borrow his signal for a high risk engagement."

"Why do I have to call him?" asked Cora with disdain.

"You can either call him, or I can call him you grab me something for lunch... so…"

She hated when Stiles took advantage of her assistant status. She was hoping to learn more by now, but she usually ended up fetching food for him. Of course he still taught her new scientific techniques every time she was about to give up on him. "Give me the phone."

DDDDDDD

**THREE MONTHS AGO**

Peter walked into Stiles office, and he rose to greet him, "The new Samuelson. You're bigger than the last one." Stiles held his hand out, "Stiles. The man behind the gray matter curtain."

"So, Kanima's one of your achievements," said Peter flatly, walking past him and ignoring his extended hand.

Stiles smile fell. He was hoping for a more pleasant interaction, but Peter's indifference set the tone for this conversation, "Yeah, yeah. That, uh, was an anomaly. There's unpredictable remainders. We're still working out the kinkies."

"Like the blood, the screaming, the dying? Look at them," Peter looked out the window, "Bunch of helpless children. Did the ones Kanima slaughter even put up a fight?"

Stiles leaned over the railing, sighing, "They wouldn't know how. Not without an imprint."

"So, why not default them with ninja skills or whatever?"

"We tried that once."

"And?"

"Blood, screaming, dying."

"Kanima," Peter said with realization.

As they leaned over the railing, they could see Allison finishing her time in the yoga circle, "I think I'd like to swim now."

"What do you think of your new girl?" asked Stiles.

"She's not a girl. She's not even a person. Just an empty hat. Until you stuff a rabbit in it." Peter stood tall and walked away, leaving Stiles alone with his thoughts.

Stiles sighed, "Abracadabra."

DDDDDDD

**PRESENT**

Fitz was busy examining a piece of a marble slab Grant was holding, "And this is one of the missing Elgin Marbles. Okay, but we're looking for a frieze fragment, not a metope panel."

Allison casually walked around the vault, "Over their heads Professor."

"The Elgin Marbles are, uh, large sections of the Parthenon's marble friezes and statuary, stolen in the late 19th century."

"So we are stealing stolen art," said Skye.

"Not technically. You see, the Turks, who controlled Athens at the time, they granted Thomas Bruce, the Seventh Earl of Elgin, permission to remove the marbles, so…"

"So, Greece hired us to take this one back," said Grant.

"Client info is confidential," said Allison. She didn't like that they were theorizing.

"Explains why we got hired through middlemen. And the no-kill order," said Skye with realization, "Things go bad, they don't want some kind of international incident."

"When a client doesn't say upfront who they are, finding out's usually not healthy. How about we stop speculating?" ordered Allison.

"The guards are rotating down to the lower floors," said Skye, tension in her voice.

"They're not coming down here. At least not for the next 34 minutes."

"Better be right," said Skye with distaste.

"I am," Allison replied with an equal amount of attitude.

Grant walked up to her, "It's nothing personal, her thing with you. If I were in charge, she'd be an ass with me, too," said Grant, "So want to grab a drink after this?" he quickly asked, looking away, unsure of how she would respond.

She looked at him up and down, surprised, but impressed, "Ask me when we get out of here."

"Will do," he smiled.

Shane and Danny were busy talking, standing over in the corner of the room. The criminals not too concerned with their presence as long as they didn't make a break for it.

"What are they going to do to us?" asked Danny.

"I'm not sure. They're not going to kill us. They made that perfectly clear."

"Then why bring us at all? Don't they know we'll tell someone what happened?"

"I don't think they care. They aren't even wearing masks."

Shane heard some rustling over by the door, and saw Fitz carrying a heavy black bag. Danny followed his line of sight, seeing him walking out of the vault.

"Looks like he found it," said Shane.

Skye heard him and saw Fitz trying to sneak out. "Hey! Where are you going with that?"

Startled that he was noticed, Fitz activated the vault door, causing it start closing. Skye was right on him so he pulled out his gun and shot at her. As she collapsed to the floor, he fired at the others. Allison and Grant dove behind cover, and Danny slammed his weight into Shane to move him out of the way. Before he even realized, Fitz had emptied the chamber. As the vault door closed, he ran off with the tablet.

Grant and Allison ran up to the door, "Bastard! Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just peachy. Lucky he's a terrible shot," Skye gripped her side to stop the flow of blood. Grant picked her up and sat her down against a crate.

Allison looked around and saw Danny and Shane lying on the ground. As Danny rolled off of Shane, she could see blood on the ground. Shane had been shot in the side as well.

"Shane!" Danny was alarmed.

Allison walked over to them and cut off their restraints, allowing Danny to lift him to his feet and cover the wound. She checked his back and saw nothing. She led them over to a crate by Skye.

"Set him over here, on his back. The bullet didn't go through, so you're gonna be fine. I can get us out of here. The alarm comes back up in…. Not gonna be a problem. Just got to make a quick call," Allison pulled out her phone and dialed a number.

Peter was sitting in the van when he got the call, "What's up?"

"It's me."

Grant looked at her with surprise, "How in the hell are you getting reception down here?"

"I got a double-crosser coming your way. Probably the southwest corner of the building. He has what we came for. Black bag. You're gonna have to complete this job for me. I need a happy client.," Allison informed Peter.

"I'm on it. Everything all right in there?"

"We're locked in. My tech girl and our hostage are gonna need medical, but I'm fine, and I can get us out. Which is irrelevant if the job's a wash."

"I'll finish the job. Just get out of there."

"Thanks. See you in a few."

Allison turned around to look at her team when a high pitched whirring sound came screeching out of the phone. Peter looked at the phone confused and hung up. He put in a quick call to central to update them on their status, and then left the van to catch the traitor. Allison stood there completely still, letting her hand drop to her side, and letting the phone go. She stared at the others with a completely blank and neutral expression.

"Did I fall asleep?"

DDDDDDD

Fitz came stumbling out of the corporate building using the side exit. As he made his way up the stairs, he was stopped when he saw a man standing at the top wearing a business suit. "Give me the bag."

"Who are you?" he asked nervously.

"The bag," Peter ordered, expressing his intentions through his voice.

"I can't do that."

"Give me the bag," Peter said again as he made his way down the stairs.

"I've got a buyer who…. He pays me twice as much as whoever…. Okay. Okay. You and me, we go in together, 50-50." Peter wasn't stopping, and Fitz held the bag out over the concrete, "I'm gonna drop this," he threatened.

"I'll shoot you," Peter said simply.

"This is the Parthenon! The is a piece of the Parth….. Do you know how much that's worth? That's millions! I'm gonna turn it into dust, I swear to God."

"You drop it, I shoot you. Then you don't get paid or breathe."

"Okay." Fitz slowly handed the bag to Peter, letting the weight go suddenly to catch him of guard. Unknown to him, this had casued Peter to strain his wound. He grabbed his gun and turned to shot Fitz in the leg, "You shot me!" he yelled.

"Barely," said Peter, slinging the bag over his shoulder and pulling Fitz into the van.

DDDDDDD

Stiles sat there looking at Cora as she ran over the list, "Neuromodulator is your friend. And I don't mean your friend from kindergarten you see twice a year. Neuromod is your BFF. Brain mapping requires…"

"Pizza squares, ice cream bites, beef jerky?" She read off the grocery list that Stiles had given her, "Okay, you may be the boy-god of all things neuro, and I do worship at the altar of your genius, but I am not getting you all this stuff," she said defiantly.

"Cora, babe, add juice boxes."

"You're privilege-abusing," Cora said giving him a stern look.

"Do you want to know how to avoid spandrels when aligning rigid designators?" he smiled.

Cora conceded, "Grape or apple?"

"Humility is part of the learning process." He used his hands to exaggerate his point, "I break you down. Then I build you back."

Cora looked up and saw the monitors flashing, "Stiles!"

Stiles looked over and suddenly became alarmed. Allison's biolinks were flashing red. Something was wrong that wasn't supposed to be, "Call Peter, I'll call Allison."

Cora was hesitant, "But Stiles, aren't you.."

"Now!" He yelled. He picked up the phone and Cora took the headset. He dialed her number, unaware that the phone was on vibrate and currently resting on the floor where no one could hear it. "Allison's not answering."

"Neither is Peter." Peter was busy subduing Fitz outside the van. Stiles ran out of the office and toward the elevator, "Stiles!" Cora yelled after him.

Cora began analyzing the displays, unsure of what to do. Lydia walked in noticing the commotion.

"What's happening?" Lydia asked.

"Allison's biolinks are redlining. Something's wrong. Stiles tried to make contact, but he couldn't. Then he just ran out."

"Probably to go see Derek." Lydia said plainly. She could care less about what Stiles was doing. She was concerned with what was going on out there, "What about Peter?"

DDDDDDD

Stiles was in Derek's office. Chris stood by the giant monitor near his desk. Stiles was busy ranting to Derek about the situation.

"I don't know where Peter is. Handler Man is MIA, and Allison's vitals are…" Stiles grabbed a piece of paper off his desk and held it out to Derek, "This is a chart?" He pointed at the paper and shot his hand above it, "They're off it."

Chris chimed in calmly, "Peter checked in with Central eight minutes ago. Apparently, a member of Allison's crew absconded with the target item and locked the rest of the team in the vault. Explains the change in vitals."

Stiles scoffed at him, and started ranting again, "This is a special skills felony engagement. I wove more than one thread of unflappable into that tapestry. Okay? Allison could have an exploding belly bomb, and her heart rate shouldn't go past 65 beats a minute."

"Maybe you made a mistake in the programming," Chris challenged with disdain. Stiles glared at him as if he had just been told the biggest insult of his life.

Derek was fully aware of Stiles' abilities and sat down at his desk, picking up the phone, "Something's wrong. I'll initiate contact."

"Yeah, um, Allison's not picking up her cell," Stiles replied hesitantly.

Derek dropped the phone and walked over to face him, "You reached out to a Doll during an engagement without my say so?"

"It's the adrenaline. It makes me forget my protocols," stiles reasoned awkwardly.

Again Chris chimed in with information. "Allison was talking to Peter when her vitals spiked," He turned on the monitor and set it to play the phone call.

"Which is irrelevant if the job's a wash," said Allison

"I'll finish the job. Just get out of there," Peter replied.

"Thanks. See you in a few," The loud screeching sound played, catching them all off guard. Stiles mind began calculating what that was.

"What was that? Play it again," said Derek.

"I'll finish the job. Just get out of there," said Peter

"Thanks. See you in a few," said Allison. The screeching sound came tearing through the room yet again.

This time Stiles realized what was happening. He shook his head in disbelief and stepped away from the monitor. "That's not… That didn't happen. How do I know that didn't happen? Because that can't happen," he yelled.

"Stiles," Derek said calmly, "what can't happen?

I'm pretty sure…. I'm kind of positive, actually, that something happened. The exact same thing happened, except without the chair."

Derek looked at him, letting the realization of the situation wash over him, "You've stated that remote wipes aren't possible."

"I've said they're untested. I've said they're a very bad, bad idea. I've said I can't do them."

"How do we undo it?" asked Derek with growing urgency.

"We don't?" Stiles replied, scared of how Derek would react, "Somebody out there figured out our frequency, hacked into our call, and that's not even the hard part. I mean, we're talking about someone…" he raised his hands in defense of himself, "I could not have seen this coming! This is not my fault!"

Derek went to sit back down in his desk, "All right. We'll parcel out the blame later. What matters now is the reputation of this company. We have an engagement to complete. I'll confirm that Peter retrieved the target item. About Allison, how bad is it?" he asked Stiles.

"Being wiped is not unlike being born. It's traumatic. I mean, in here, we minimize the trauma here with throw pillows and perfectly crunchy lettuce. There's no conflict! But out there it's all fluorescent lights and forceps. Right now, Allison is experiencing extreme sensory overload. That could lead to a coma state, or it could turn her into "Carrie at the prom." Either way we have to help her. She can't help herself."

DDDDDDD

Allison sat in the middle of the vault floor, cradling her legs, "Shall I go now?" she whimpered.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Skye.

"Hysterical woman syndrome?" Grant said pointedly.

"Five minutes ago, you were kissing her ass," Skye challenged.

"Five minutes ago, we were on Faith designated time." He replied. He had picked up the phone and was busy trying to make a call, "It's a private number. It's not letting me dial out."

"Shall I go now?" She asked again.

"Yeah. Let's go!" Grant tossed the phone, "Get us the hell out of here!"

"Do we know how long?" asked Skye

"Not long enough." Grant relied. He looked over at Danny holding Shane, "You! How do we get out of here?"

Danny moved his body over Shane's a little more protectively, "He's bleeding!"

"Join the club," said Skye sarcastically, holding the wound closed with her hand.

Grant pushed Danny off of him, and grabbed Shane by the shirt, "I don't care. He has to know something."

"I don't have the clearance for this vault. Even if I did, I don't know how to get out. Not sure I would tell you anyway," Shane spat at him through gritted teeth, trying not to let the pain send him into shock.

"Shane! Stop," Danny pleaded. The last thing he wanted was for Shane to piss off the criminals and get himself hurt even more.

Gran t dropped him and Danny rushed back over to his side. Grant pulled off his jacket and went to sit in front of Allison, "Whatever. I've dated my share of crazies. I know how to deal with this." He looked at her, smiling, and talking as calmly as possible, "Hey. I'm not saying this isn't cute. It's adorable."

"Shall I go now?"

"But the sooner you open that door, the sooner we can go get that drink. So let's do it."

"Shall I go now? Now?" Grant got pissed and slapped her across the face. Allison didn't know what to do. She was scared. No one told her she could go. What was happening? Nothing was nice here.

DDDDDDD

Over in the Dollhouse, Erica was being imprinted. As the chair rose, she looked up to see Derek standing there waiting for her.

"Hello Faith. My name is Derek DeWitt. I need your help."

She smiled at him. She had another job, "Five by five."

DDDDDDD

**Three Months Ago**

Allison sat in the imprint chair as Stiles attached wires to her head. Peter stood in the corner, not too interested in what was going on.

"Is it time for my treatment?" asked Allison.

"Yes, but this is a very special one, Allison. This one won't pinch like the others you don't remember."

Allison looked over at Peter. "Hello. You're tall."

Peter rolled his eyes and addressed Stiles, "Do I have to be here for this?"

"The Handler-Active imprint requires a direct line of sight. So, she needs to be looking into those dreamy blue eyes when I wave my magic wand," Stiles said excitedly.

"Then what? Me and Special Needs become buddy-buddy?" Peter said sarcastically.

"Hey. This isn't about friendship, man. It's about trust. From this point on, Echo will always trust you, without question or hesitation, no matter what the circumstance. You're about to become the most important person in her life," he smiled.

"Let's get this over with."

"Hey, hey, this is art. It's not an oil change," Stiles scolded him. He walked up and handed Peter a piece of paper.

"What's this? Your script?" He asked, reading the words on the paper.

"Call and response. Neural lock and key." Stiles walked back over to the computer, "All right, Brando. Let's see what you got."

"Everything's going to be…"

Stiles cut him, "Oh, wait, wait, wait a second. Uh, take her hand."

"What?" Peter said, as if he had just suggested something lewd.

"Hold her hand." Stiles urged, "Tactile proximity enhances bonding protocol. It's okay."

Peter rolled his eyes again and grabbed Allison's hands. She continued to stare at him as he did so, "Everything's going to be all right."

"Now that you're here," she replied automatically.

"Do you trust me?" he read.

"With my life."

DDDDDDD

Shane was still cradled in Danny's arms. He looked up at him. Danny actually cared for him. He had tried to push Shane out of the way of a bullet, and had defended him when he was threatened. He really had feelings for him. Derek was right. As far as Danny knew, he was in love with him.

"Justin," said Shane.

"What is it? Are you alright?" he asked concerned.

"Yeah. I just wanted to tell you how much this night has meant to me."

"Don't talk like that."

"I'm not. It's just… Without you, I probably would have come to this party alone. And I would still be here right now. No one to care for me. No one to hold me. But you do. You're here. You genuinely care for me." Shane reached his hand up to cup Danny's face.

"What are you talking about? Of course I care about you. Now just save your energy. We are going to get out of here."

Shane looked over at Allison, still cradling her legs. Rocking back and forth, with a red mark on her face from the slap, "She's not doing so good. You should try to talk to her."

Danny looked over at her and then back at Shane, "I'm not leaving your side."

"I can manage a couple minutes without you. If you can calm her down, maybe she can get us out. Me and that girl are too hurt to do much of anything, and that brute is definitely not gonna help. It has to be you. Go talk to her."

"Okay, but I am coming right back. Keep pressure here." He grabbed Shane's hand and placed it over his wound. He got up and moved to sit in front of Allison, "Hey. Are you alright?"

"Shall I go now?" she whimpered.

"Sure….. If you want to go," he replied wanting to see where this was going to go. At that Allison seemed to relax a bit, and rose to her feet, "Hey, she's moving."

Allison looked around, examining the paintings, "I don't think I like it here."

Danny rose to his feet, "Hey, um, everything's going to be alright," Danny comforted.

"Now that you're here," she replied automatically.

"What?" Danny was taken aback.

"I trust you," she told him.

The others were busy watching the two interact. Grant spoke up, "So what, you speak crazy?"

"She seems to be responding to me for some reason," Danny answered.

"Justin," Shane called out for him.

"I'm coming," Danny rushed over to Shane's side, Allison following him curiously. He hadn't been doing a great job applying pressure to his wound. The blood stain on his shirt was beginning to grow larger.

Danny looked over at Allison, "Hey, um, can you find me a towel?" Allison looked around and grabbed a piece of cloth that was sitting on top of the bag. She brought it to Danny. "Thank you."

"I try to be my best," she answered.

Skye was sitting over by the crate, looking at the artwork surrounding them. She knew that Allison wasn't going to get them out, no matter what they did, "Lots of people would die to see this stuff. Now it looks like we're going to."

Allison heard her, and began looking at the paintings. She focused on one painting that showed a woman, her face broken into separate shapes, "This one's broken."

"Yeah, look who's talking," said Skye. Allison began feeling her own face in response to that. "On the inside," Skye corrected. "So, you like art?"

"It doesn't look right," said Allison simply.

"It's not about looking right. Art's about feeling right…. and you have no idea what I'm talking about."

Allison looked at it again, trying to make sense of what she had been told, "She makes me feel funny."

"Well, that's 'cause these other guys they painted what they saw. But this guy, he painted what is. That's what art's for; to show us who we are. This one, it's saying how we start off whole, then somewhere along the line, the pieces start to slide. We get broken."

"That's sad," said Allison.

"No, it's weak." Grant cut them off, "You can either get broken, or you can be the one doing the breaking. No mystery which way you went."

DDDDDDD

Derek and Chris were in the office with Erica, freshly imprinted with the Faith personality. She was upset after they informed her of what was transpiring.

"Ten months of research. Blueprints, security systems, and police response time. The Parthenon job was supposed to be mine," she said.

"And now it is," Derek said simply. He needed her on his side, and he needed her now.

"You were running two ponies all along," said Erica, impressed by his deception.

"It was the client's decision," Derek reasoned.

Erica seemed okay with that answer, "Hey, I figured out on my first job, when a little creative thinking on my part almost got me not paid, never second-guess a client. And wear comfy shoes."

"We'll pay double your usual fee to extract the team," said Chris. He could never understand why people didn't just get to the point.

"Getting sidelined by some girl at the last minute, my feelings are hurt."

"I assure you that Allison is not some girl. You and her are cut from the same cloth," Derek assured.

"I've never gotten amnesia during a gig, but whatevs," Erica dismissed.

"Three of your peers are locked in that vault with nothing between them and a SWAT team but you. There is no balm for a bruised ego like saving the day," Derek smiled, hoping to sway her.

"I'll need to see the cash."

"We're a bit pressed for time." Derek said. Erica gave him an irritated look that told him her position. He conceded, "Of course." He turned to look at Chris and nodded. Chris left the room, and Derek sat there waiting with Erica.

DDDDDDD

Stiles was back in his office with Cora. She was attempting to take her mind of the matter at hand by stocking the fridge with all of Stiles' ridiculous requests. As she did so Stiles sat on the floor, his feet dangling through the railing that separated his office from his sitting area. He was busy spouting off his theories to Cora, trying to make sense of the whole situation.

"This remote wipe, it's not about just creating five seconds of noise. He had to break into our system, which is impossible. He had to get Allison's cell number. He, uh…"

"Or she," Cora interjected.

"Or they. It has to be a "they." I mean, look at this build." He stood and waved his arms at his computer, "It's not even science. It's art! You saw the firewalls."

"There are many."

"I defy another programmer to put that much neurotrophic factor around each and every personality component. This isn't a lone gunman." He walked over to Cora, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking at her with a crazy intensity, "This is a conspiracy. A gigantic, multi-pronged, conspiracy!"

"You need to take something."

"Yuma Takahashi!" he yelled turning around back to his computer.

"You think he's one of the prongs in the multi-pronged conspiracy?"

"He's always gunning for my job. He loves the beach. Here."

"You really think a programmer in Tokyo is going to remote-wipe Allison in California to steal your job?"

"He shows Derek his mad skills, suddenly Stiles' no longer "Number One Son."" Stiles seemed to be becoming more erratic as time passed.

"Allison could die. That is not a plan for career advancement."

Stiles took this into account and shook his head, "Anyway, Takahashi's a hack. There's only one person I know who could achieve a remote wipe….. and he's dead." He ran over to his phone, "I'm gonna call Peter again!"

Peter was sitting in the van, Fitz tied up and sitting in the corner, "What is it, Stiles?"

"When you took Allison out tonight, did she seem normal?"

"Yeah, why?" Peter asked confused.

"You don't know," as Stiles said this Cora walked over to him and put the phone on speaker.

"What's going on?" Peter asked.

"Allison's been wiped. Remotely," said Cora.

"What?" Peter said.

"It's not my fault!" Stiles yelled.

DDDDDDD

"Okay now you say it," said Grant. He was sitting in front of Allison, trying to get her to remember.

"I'm Faith. And I know how to get us out of here," said Allison.

"Yeah, good. What else?"

"I try to be my best," she was unsure of what else he wanted.

"You are the best. You remember? Bonnie and Clyde?" He urged her on.

"Are they here, too?" she asked, looking around.

Skye smiled at his lack of progress. Grant rubbed his eyebrows, "Okay, all right, let's rewind a few minutes." He grabbed the phone and handed it to her, "You were talking on this."

"I was talking on this," she repeated.

"You were talking and you said that you could open the door."

"I know how to open the door," she said.

"Yes, good! So, open it."

"I try to be my best?" she said.

Skye shook her head, "Yeah Faith's gone. And she's not coming back."

DDDDDDD

Back in Derek's office Erica was reviewing the schematics of the corporate building and the vault. The phone rang and Derek sat down to answer. It was Peter.

"Mr. Langton," Derek answered.

"I talked to Stiles," Peter stood outside the van to prevent Fitz from hearing anything.

Derek bowed his head. He knew what Peter wanted, "If there were anything you could do, I'd already have you doing it."

"I didn't think remote wipes were even possible," said Peter.

"Neither did we. Did you retrieve the target item?"

"Yeah, I got it. So, how are you planning on getting her out of there?" Peter demanded.

Chris walked in with the briefcase of money. He set it in front of Erica and opened it, "We're working the problem," Derek stated.

"What does that mean?" Peter asked

"It means I'm hopeful of a happy outcome," he watched Chris and Erica going over the plan.

"And if the outcome isn't happy?" Peter wanted to know.

"Then you should prepare yourself," Derek warned. He hung up the phone.

Peter wasn't satisfied with that answer. He got back into the van to talk to Fitz, "The access point to the vault, where is it?"

"Uh, a security office downstairs."

Peter threw a notepad and pen at him, "Draw me a map."

"The place is a maze! I don't remember!"

"Try."

"How?" he asked, starting to get frightened.

"As if your life depended on it," Peter threatened.

DDDDDDD

Back in Derek's office, Chris was going over the plan, "We believe, with the right equipment, you could get inside the building through the roof."

"Oh, sweetie. Equipment's not the issue." Erica said, "The Gray Hour's going to end in nine minutes. We won't even make it out of the parking garage. But if this Allison chick is as good as you say, brain fry aside, I don't need to get inside. All I need is a phone."

In the vault, Allison was sitting next to Skye. Danny was busy caring for Shane, and Grant was searching the vault for another way out. Allison was looking at a picture of mountains under a beautiful blue sky.

"I like sky." She looked at the young girl, "What's my name again?"

"Faith."

Allison pointed at the painting, "When I'm there, my name is something else."

"Hand me that bag," asked Skye.

Allison grabbed the bag from on top of the crate and gave it to her. Skye began searching through the bag, "What are you looking for?"

"A way out of here." She replied. Allison saw something in the bag and picked it up, turning it in her hands curiously. Skye pulled the grenade out of her hands, "Not to play with."

"There's an air duct back here!" Grant yelled.

"He's gonna find a way out of here," Allison said with confidence.

"Grant isn't gonna open that door. They're not gonna open the door." She nodded her head at Shane and Danny, "And I'm not gonna open that door. And you're definitely not gonna open that door." She grabbed her laptop and pointed at the dots on the screen, representing the security inside the building, "They are gonna open the door. They're gonna take us to prison."

"What's prison?" she asked.

"It's a place with no sky." Allison looked at the painting worried. "We're bad guys. When bad guys get caught, we don't get to see sky."

"I'm a bad guy?" Allison asked.

"You are a talking cucumber." Skye pulled a syringe out of the bag and got it ready to inject herself with it, "And I'm too broken to fix."

Grant came up and pulled the syringe out of her hands, he was carrying a machine gun now, "Oh, no, no, no. You don't get to take the easy way out! I'm lifting the no-kill order. When those doors open we're shooting our way out." Danny tensed up, covering Shane with his body. "Relax, you two are useless. If anything we'll use you two as shields."

In the office Erica was busy dialing Allison's phone, "You know, this only works if she answers."

"Dial again. Keep dialing," Derek ordered.

"I'd like to go over the plan again," asked Chris.

Erica looked at Derek, "Nervous Nellie. He's actually kinda sweet." She stood and dialed the phone once more, "Okeydoke. The vault door contains a whole mess of glass re-lockers. If somebody, say me, drills through the door from the inside, the glass breaks. Presto, alarm goes off. Whole other mess of locks are released. No getting out."

"You bypass the glass," Chris reasoned.

"Resin. Makes it crack rather than shatter. If you do it right" She looked at her watch, "Well, this is about to be a giant , nine, eight"

"Dial again." Derek ordered.

Erica dialed and kept counting, "seven, six, five"

In the vault they were also keeping count, "four, three"

"Two?" Allison asked.

"One," said Erica.

"It's over," said Grant.

Allison felt very uncomfortable, "I don't like this room anymore. Where are the better rooms?" Allison moved and pulled the phone out of her pocket, feeling it vibrate, "I have something in my pocket. Look."

"It's over," Derek's head fell.

"It's almost over." Erica countered. "The security system's going back online one device at a time. The vault door, then the heat sensors, then the motion detectors."

"Hello?" Allison answered.

"If I can get the vault door open before the motion detectors reactivate, we're all good." Erica slammed the phone down onto the speaker, "Is this the chowderhead?

"I don't know," Allison said excitedly.

"Clearly, yes," said Erica, "Here's the dealio. I can get you out of that vault if you do exactly as I say. Can you do that?"

"I think so."

"Underwhelming, but let's give it a go. You should be carrying a vial of resin. Bra's a good place."

Allison tucked the phone into her shoulder and began searching her bra with both hands. Everyone stared at her like she had gone even crazier. She pulled out a small vial, "I have it!"

"Then you've also got a nozzle thingy tucked into your boot. Lipstick-like."

Allison pulled it out of her boot, "Yes!"

"Screw one thingy onto the other thingy. And you're gonna need a drill."

Allison began screwing them together and looked at the others, "She says we need a drill."

"Who's she?" asked Grant.

Skye looked at him, her condition getting worse, "I don't know. But I'd give Faith the drill."

"This is fun. Are you having fun?" Allison said.

"No!" Grant yelled, handing her a drill.

"Go to the door. You'll want both hands," ordered Erica. Allison set the phone down on the ground. Grant picked it up and put it on speaker so Allison could hear her, "On three, start drilling into the door. Doesn't matter where."

"Ready,"said Allison

"I'm going to close my eyes and pray to God that when I say stop, you will stop. One, two, three, drill." Allison began drilling and the others held their breath, "And stop. Spray the resin into the hole. Three squirts. Count 'em out."

Allison grabbed the vial and sprayed it into the hole she just drilled, "One, two, three."

"Put the drill in the hole. Turn it on. Now, this is the important part. Do not move your hand. Don't think about it. Do it."

Allison put the drill back in the hole and started it. Everyone watched her, waiting to see of this could really work. Suddenly, Allison's hand plunged forward, and the alarms began to ring, the lights turning off, and the red emergency lights coming on.

"Is that good?" Allison asked unsure.

"Chowderhead! Talk to me" yelled Erica. She looked at Derek, "This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't given my job away."

"What's the police response time?" Chris asked her.

"Seven minutes. Guards inside, less. Six minutes, 15 seconds less."

"You stupid bitch!" Grant slammed the phone next to her, breaking it.

Derek looked at the phone with defeat, then put on his business smile "Faith, thank you for your services."

"That's it?" asked Erica skeptically.

"Mr. Dominic will take you down for your treatment."

Erica grabbed the suitcase and began walking away. "Thanks for the cash. Good luck with the girl."

"I'll notify Peter. He may have to neutralize her," said Chris.

"No. I'm beginning to suspect he hasn't the proper distance. Send down for Ramirez and Hutchins. Put them on standby."

Chris began to walk out of the room, and stopped to look at Derek, "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

DDDDDDD

Skye was looking at her computer, "The guards are closing in," she looked at Allison, "Remember, your hands go over your head."

Allison quickly raised her hands, scared, "Okay. Why?"

"Because you don't want the guards to put a bullet in your chest," answered Skye.

Grant came up to them, hauled Allison to her feet, and handed her a gun, "Don't listen to her. Take this. Get up. Point it at the bad guys and you squeeze the trigger."

"Aren't we the bad guys?" asked Allison.

"Down." They crouched down behind some crates in front of the vault door, "Remember what I told you? You get broken or you do the breaking."

"I also recall you saying something about using us as human shields." Shane challenged. He was faring better than Skye because of Danny, but he still wasn't doing too well.

"You're too much trouble at this point," Grant answered.

The vault door opened and beams of light came cutting through the darkness of the vault.

"Come out slowly! Let me see your hands!" The guards yelled.

"Start shooting now or I shoot you," Grant pointed his gun at Allison, tucking himself safely behind the crate.

"I'd like to go now." Allison said sternly.

"Let's see your hands! There's no way out! Drop the weapon!" The guards continued to yell.

"Do it," Grant yelled.

"Building perimeter is locked down! Hands on your head!"

"Do it now! What are you waiting for? Do it!" Grant yelled, slamming his hand against the crate.

Allison saw the syringe on the ground. She grabbed it and jammed the syringe into his neck. Grant yelled and fell to his side and started shooting at the guards. She dropped the gun and ran over to Skye, who was now lying on her back.

"Around the corner you can get out." Skye grabbed the smoke grenade and threw it over the crates, "Go. Go now. They won't be able to see you."

Allison got up to grab Danny and Shane. Danny refused to move, "I'm not leaving him."

Shane looked at her, ushering her out, "We'll be alright, just go."

DDDDDDD

Peter came up to the security office, and entered the code. He saw the hole in the wall, and before he could step through it, Allison came walking out, supporting a young woman on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked her

Allison looked at Skye, "She's broken. Can we fix her?"

"We'll try," said Peter, grabbing Skye, and supporting her. He reached his hand out for Allison.

She shook her head, "I'm not broken."

"No, you're not. Come on. Let's get out of here."

DDDDDDDD

Chris was in the office with Derek post Allison's return to the Dollhouse. Derek was examining the Parthenon tablet as Chris spoke to him.

"Mr. Hardy's in recovery. He had enough clout to have them overlook Danny's presence. The traitor's in custody, and the artifact has been retrieved. The man in the vault will be blamed for the incident, and the he won't be giving out any information. He injected himself with a poison and is now dead. It was a win for us today sir."

"It nearly came crashing down on us. Inform the security staff to increase our monitoring systems. I don't want another crossover of this caliber to occur again." Derek ordered him. The incident had caused Danny to become a hostage without their knowledge, and very well threatened their reputation by getting a client involved, "What's more is it occurred without our knowledge and that is unacceptable."

"Right away sir."

"Inform Stiles that we will be giving Shane extra time with Danny in light of his injuries."

"Are you sure that is wise?" Chris asked skeptically.

"Whether he knew this incident was our fault or not, he protected Danny from the public. He kept our secret, and I think it is in our best interest to reward him for that. Besides, the reputation of this company must be preserved. I want to make sure he is cared for and satisfied with our service."

"Very well."

Derek picked up the tablet and handed it to Chris, "Michelangelo believed his sculptures already existed inside the marble, waiting to be freed. We should get this to our clients first thing in the morning."

"And the antiquities expert?" asked Chris.

Derek took a seat at his desk, "They can have him, too."

Chris took the tablet and left, just as Stiles was entering the room. "So I put Allison through every test I could think of, which is a lot. The remote wipe didn't do any permanent damage," Stiles informed him.

"So whatever happened in Allison's head in that vault, it's gone?" he asked.

"She's fresh as morning dew. No pesky human evolution bits lingering around."

"Well done," said Derek dismissively.

Stiles looked around and leaned forward towards Derek, almost whispering, "It was Jackson, wasn't it? Nobody else could come even close to pulling off a remote wipe. He's alive. He's out there."

Derek grabbed a document and placed it in front of Stiles, "You'll need to sign and initial at the bottom."

Stiles stood up looking at the file. Had he crossed the line? "Is this? Am I fired?"

"I'm upping your security clearance," Derek answered.

"Does that mean I'm right? Jackson's alive? He's out there? But after the incident, you told us security tracked him down and, you know."

"Our influence is substantial, but Jackson, with his gifts, gifts we gave him, finding him, confining him… We're not all powerful."

Stiles took a step back, "I'm scared. I'm scared like a little girl."

"Sign and initial at the bottom. I'll tell you what I know. You'll tell me how he did this, and how we can keep him from ever doing it again."

DDDDDDD

Allison was sitting on Dr. Martin's exam chair. Peter was standing by, watching them intently.

"You look fine. The mark on your cheek is the only thing, and that should fade in a couple hours," said Lydia.

"It feels sore," Allison said simply.

"It will go away soon. You can go now."

Peter watched her stand, and looked at Lydia, "Is she alright?"

"She's fine, and the woman you brought in is resting comfortably in the other room. We're keeping her sedated so she doesn't see anything going on here."

"I'm not surprised." Peter sighed. The Dollhouse may have been kind enough to care for her, but there was no way they were going to let her see anything to become a liability.

Lydia looked at Peter intently and motioned toward the table, "Why don't you sit on the table?"

"I'm fine." Peter replied.

"You're bleeding. You obviously opened your wound. Sit on the table so I can rewrap it."

Peter sat on the table and removed his shirt. Lydia went to go grab new bandages and sutures. As she came back, she saw Allison was still standing in the corner of the room.

"Allison I said you can go."

"He hurts," Allison pointed at Peter.

"He won't anymore. I'm gonna fix him for you, okay?" Lydia said comfortingly.

"I'll be alright. You can go." Peter smiled at her, "I'm more concerned about you anyway."

Allison nodded her head, "I'm alright." She walked out of the room into the main hall, "I'm five by five."

**Here's a fun fact. The term "Five By Five" is a reference to the character Faith from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The actress that played Faith was also the star of the t.v. show Dollhouse. She is amazing and I wanted to make a reference to that. I really hoped you all liked this chapter! Until next time!**


	3. Episode 3: The House of Love

**AN: Once again I own nothing. This is for fun, and my friends on Tumblr.**

**I apologize for not updating when I said I would. I was having trouble getting this chapter to work the way I wanted it to, so I decided to just post it so I could move on. Also I wasn't around the computer for a couple days, so that put a halt on it too. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter.**

**Episode 3: The House of Love**

Ethan Carver sat in Derek's office. He was surprised he wasn't subdued after everything that had happened. Yet here he was. Sitting directly across from the operating head of the Dollhouse with no restraints, and no security in the room to halt any of his attempts. He couldn't help but feel uneasy. Did Derek really feel that comfortable?

Derek glared down at him, his face unreadable. "Mr. Carver. I must say I am impressed. You managed to walk right into the Dollhouse under false pretenses."

Ethan returned his harsh stare, "Yeah, and what do you plan on doing about that?"

"Arrogance will get you nowhere at this point. That little act may have worked in the beginning, but I can see right through it now," Derek warned.

He had really gotten to him. Ethan smirked at that, "What happened to the smug and cheery DeWitt that wanted to prove me wrong?"

"You attempted to take someone from my house. I don't take that too lightly," Derek grabbed a file from his cabinet and sat down across from him. Derek sighed and his face became more neutral, "In that respect, you were stupid. You could have easily walked in and out of here. But you let your emotions get the best of you."

It was Ethan's turn to be bothered, "I did what I did to protect someone I love. Can you say that?"

"Maybe not, but I want to see what else you'll do for someone you love."

Derek looked past him at the door as it opened.

DDDDDDD

**Several Hours Earlier**

The imprint chair rose. Danny sat up and looked over at Stiles, "Did I fall asleep?"

"For a little while."

"Shall I go now?"

"If you like."

Danny got up and walked out of his office, heading downstairs where Dr. Martin was waiting for him. He had been gone on such a long-term engagement with Mr. Hardy, she insisted on a thorough examination. Cora walked into the office, watching Danny leave as she did.

"I'm surprised Shane kept Danny with him considering we were the ones responsible for getting him shot," she said to Stiles.

"What can I say? Life threatening situations increases the need for attachment," he pulled the wedge holding the imprint out of the chair and turned to look at her, "Or maybe our respected client liked being shot. Thought it was kinky."

Cora looked at him with disappointment, "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" he asked confused.

"Say things that make me want to punch you in the face."

Stiles feigned an offended look, "So violent and intimidating. Are you related to Derek? Or how about Dominic? I feel like one of them is always holding back the urge to punch me in the face. And then there is Dr. Martin…"

She raised her hand to stop him, "Okay, stop right there before you spew off into a pity parade of how everyone in the house hates you."

"Everyone?" he looked almost sad.

"Shut up," she said flatly. She knew he was faking.

He walked over to his desk facing the window, "If you keep being mean I'm not going to show you how to amplify neural…." Stiles looked up from his computer and out the window. Something outside had caught his eye, "Oh no."

"What is it?" Cora moved over to him and looked out the window to find the source of the problem.

"Derek is with a client," answered Stiles, gesturing out the window to Derek on the main floor with an attractive young man in a business suit.

"Isn't he usually?" she asked confused.

"No, I mean he is with a client here in the Dollhouse," he stressed, believing he was making his point clear.

"So?" she asked, still clearly not getting it.

"So, he only does that when it's with a well known client of the Dollhouse, or if the client pisses him off and he needs to prove 'em wrong. Otherwise they would just stay in his office"

"Well which one is this one?" She asked looking back out the window at them.

"Well… I've never seen him before."

DDDDDDD

Derek led Ethan Carver through the halls of the Dollhouse. It was supposed to be a simple consultation meeting, but Mr. Carver had proven to be incredibly arrogant, standing on a pedestal as if he were above all of this. Derek didn't like that. He had no understanding of this place, and the only way to fix that attitude was to prove him wrong and give him a grand tour of the Dollhouse and all its workings.

"So this is it. It's smaller than I imagined," Ethan commented. Derek did his best to hold onto his professional smile.

"This is merely the resting area for our dolls. Here they are cared for extensively as the terms of their contract."

Ethan looked around, watching everyone walk by, "These Dolls seem to just roam around. What keeps them from just walking out?"

"In their resting state, our dolls are as innocent as children. They are incapable of making the conscious decision to leave the area. They follow the directions of the staff, and the only time they can leave is when they are out on an engagement."

"Sounds like they're all just simple good boys and girls," he said looking around again.

Derek sighed, forcing a smile, "In the most basic description, yes. But do not underestimate the complexity of their nature, or our ability to keep them here."

"If you keep them so simple, what do you do with their original personalities?"

"Our scientists keep them stored away, to be returned upon the completion of their contract." Derek eyed him curiously and moved to stand in front of him, "But this tour isn't to satisfy your curiosity, is it?"

"You're right. It's to satisfy my skepticism," Ethan smiled.

"And to determine what it is that you need," Derek led on.

Ethan shifted, and glanced over Derek's shoulder, "Him."

"I'm sorry?" Derek asked, turning to follow his line of sight. He was looking at Danny, who was currently exercising in the yoga circle.

"You want me to be a client, I need him," Ethan said simply.

"That's Danny. He's one of our Betas. He just recently came back from a long term engagement, so he will need some time to rest."

"Betas?" he asked, ignoring the rest of Derek's statement.

"Our most requested Dolls are referred to as Alphas. The others are Betas. Each Alpha has their own pack of Betas that accompany them on more extensive engagements."

Christopher Dominic came down the stairs and approached Derek, "Mr. DeWitt, your next meeting is starting shortly," he informed him.

"Thank you Mr. Dominic." Derek gave an internal sigh of relief. He turned to Ethan, "I'm afraid I will have to cut this short. Mr. Dominic, our new client has taken an interest in Danny. If you would please introduce them so that his skepticism may be put to rest. And continue to guide him through the rest of the facility."

"Very well," said Mr. Dominic.

Derek walked up the stairs to the elevator, frustrated. How could someone be so ignorant about everything? He was a truly an irritating client, but the reputation of the company was far more important than any satisfaction Derek would gain from throwing him out. Maybe he should just let him have Danny and have this matter resolved.

DDDDDDD

Scott moved through the crowd of the club. Kira had given him the message that Victor had tried to deliver. Kira seemed a little upset by the encounter, but he told her to ignore him if he ever came back. He was upset that he had tried to go after him in his home, and then go after his neighbor. Scott had finally arrived at the club, but it was a little difficult to find Victor through the mass of grinding and gyrating bodies. Scott looked to the bar and to the sitting areas, the usual spots for a party boy like Victor. When he didn't see him, Scott began scanning the crowd and dance floor, finally spotting him by one of the supporting pillars in the back of the room, chatting up some guy. In fact, Victor seemed to be really chatting up this guy, brushing his hand on his face. Scott looked at him with interest. Maybe that was something he could take advantage of.

Scott moved around the crowd toward him. The strange guy moved away from Victor to the bar to fetch them some drinks. Scott took his chance and walked over and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him behind another pillar so no one could see them talking. Victor was shocked and looked around to see if anyone he knew was still there.

"You trying to get me killed? You weren't supposed to be here for another hour!" Victor panicked.

"I wasn't followed." Scott reassured. The pillar wasn't very wide. Their faces had to be very close together to keep out of sight, and Scott was thankful for that. It would help with his attempt to seduce Victor.

"You cannot be sniffing around the family and talking to me. The Borodins see us together, they will kill us both. Besides, the family's clean on this."

"They traffic girls," Scott countered.

"Maybe, maybe not, but they don't brainwash them," Victor was defiant. His loyalty to the family was the only thing that had kept him alive. If it hadn't been for them, he would have been just another dead kid on the streets. He owed them everything, and would defend their honor in something like this.

Scott looked into his eyes, "Look I know you may find this hard to believe, but I don't want you to get hurt."

Victor was skeptical, "Is that why you pointed a gun at my head?"

"It was never loaded. I was never going to hurt you," Scott leaned forward a little, trying to convey an ambiguous interest, "I need your help Victor. I thought that if I intimidated you I could get you to help me. For that I'm sorry. But now I'm asking. I'm asking you to help me."

Victor looked at him, his breath catching. There was a feeling rising inside of him that he couldn't deny. Why? He barely even knew him. The family had done way more for him than this guy ever had. But somehow, this sincerity was pulling him toward him. Scott just looked so… "I did what you asked. I started throwing the word 'Dollhouse' around, my people. They looked at me like I was a tourist. I can't afford that. It's a myth, okay? You got no leads. Anything you think you had, led you to me, and I'm a dead end."

"You don't know what I got," Scott countered.

"I checked you out plenty, Agent Ballard. You don't close. The Van Dynes, Illinois Gun Club. The bureau takes pity on you and gives you the one job you can't blow because it doesn't exist," as he said it, Victor felt a little bad about it. Why did he feel bad for him? How could he possibly be attracted to him? He looked away from Scott.

"The technology exists," Scott said, his resolve holding.

"Somebody made a monkey tango, right? It doesn't mean it's being used on people."

Scott moved around to look at him, leaving the cover of the pillar, "It does. It means that."

Victor got scared and grabbed Scott, pulling him behind the pillar. Anyone who saw would just think they were making out. That thought caused Victor to put as much distance between them as the pillar would allow, "How do you know?"

Scott held back a smile. Victor was flustered. It had to be working. Scott leaned against the pillar, "We split the atom, we make a bomb. We come up with anything new, the first thing we do is destroy, manipulate, control. It's human nature."

Victor sighed, leaning against the pillar next to him, "Yeah, people are mostly crap," Victor sighed, "I don't think there's a Dollhouse. I hear different, I'll call you."

"So you'll help me?" Scott looked at him, almost smiling.

"Yeah I'll help you." Victor moved out and started to walk away, "Personally I wish there was a Dollhouse."

"How come?" Scott called out.

"So I could sign up, wipe all of my terrible burdens away."

"I'll keep you in mind," he whispered.

DDDDDDD

Ethan looked around Stiles' office as Chris stood by the door. Cora was in the kitchen getting lunch for Stiles in exchange for learning how to recluster neural inhibitors. Meanwhile Stiles was running through his imprint files, trying to ignore the others in his office.

"This is it? A one man operation?" asked Ethan, looking Stiles up and down.

Stiles looked up at him and Chris, "Why is there more than one condescending person in my office?"

"Derek wanted me to give our client a tour of the Dollhouse." Chris answered.

Stiles moved up to Ethan. Two seconds and he already didn't like this guy, "You must have really pissed Derek off to make him bring you down here."

"Concerned I hurt your boyfriend's feelings?" Ethan smirked.

"You don't want to piss off this one man operation. I can make your fantasy a living nightmare," Stiles threatened.

Ethan began backing up, smiling at Stiles, "I like you." He walked out of the room leaving Chris alone with Stiles

"I can't believe Derek has me escorting this punk around. I don't like him." Chris said.

"Well at least I got my chance to tell him off. Right?" Stiles looked at Chris, who said nothing. He just stood still watching Ethan from the door. Stiles slapped him on the arm, "Come one. I'm trying to bond over our mutual hatred here."

"That's the thing Stiles. I don't like you either." Chris walked out the door, not even so much as looking at him.

DDDDDDD

Derek walked into his office, his client already waiting for him. He sat in the armchair with a glass of whiskey. He stood to look Derek over. Mario Ballesteros. Standing, he was a bit over 6 feet tall. He had dark brown hair that looked almost black. He wore glasses, and had wide shoulders that led down to a lean frame. He looked incredibly young, no older than his early twenties. Derek was surprised about his age considering the things he had heard about him. Supposedly he was one of the richest people in the world.

"So you're Derek DeWitt," he smiled, his eyes roaming Derek's body. "You're a lot hotter than I expected you to be. Especially for a company exec. Are you sure you aren't a doll yourself?" Mario teased.

Derek ignored his advances and held his hand out, "Mr. Ballesteros. You have quiet the reputation with the Dollhouse."

"Oh, good things I hope." He shook his hand, smiling pleasantly.

"Quite so. However, you have already filled out the forms for this engagement, and you are well aware of our process. So I am curious as to why you requested a consultation meeting." Derek moved over to take a seat at his desk.

"Well maybe I just wanted to get better acquainted with you," he smiled. Derek maintained a neutral professional smile. Mario frowned at his lack of playfulness, "Alright. I want to handpick two dolls."

"Well as a loyal client, you are more than welcome to that privilege."

The doors to the office opened and Ethan came walking in, stopping as he saw Derek and Mario, "I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?"

Mario looked at him and grinned widely, "Not at all. In fact, feel free to interrupt anytime you want." He flirted.

Derek cut into the conversation, "Mr. Carver, this is Mr. Ballesteros, a loyal client of ours. We were on our way back down to the Dollhouse."

Ethan smiled, "Perfect. Mind if I tag along? I wasn't quite done."

Mario answered for him, "Be my guest. You don't mind servicing two clients at once, do you Derek?" Mario moved up to Ethan, turning to Derek with a coy smile on his face.

"Not at all," Derek answered, ignoring the innuendo. He led them back to the elevator. Today was going to be a long day.

DDDDDDD

Scott was in the bureau when he got a call from Victor. Apparently his charm had worked. Victor was willing to help him. It was strange how easily he was able to use him like that.

"So, Agent Ballard. Maybe I got something for you after all. It used to be called the Devonshire hotel. It's an abandoned building on the far side of town."

Scott wrote down the name, "If it's abandoned, what am I looking for?"

"The basement. If people were being held, they probably would have been down there. Hey, I'm getting this third-hand. I still think it goes nowhere."

"Then why call?" Scott asked.

Victor hesitated, "Because you inspire terrible pity. Watch your back." He ended the call and sighed. He turned around and handed the phone to the other man in the room, "You know, despite his rough F.B.I. exterior, he's actually kind of cute."

Stiles took the phone and set it aside, "Yeah, that was the point of the new parameter. Have a seat." Victor got into the imprint chair, and Stiles started it. The chair fell back and the Victor was wiped of his personality. The chair rose up and Stiles turned to look at him, "Hello Isaac, how are you feeling?"

"Did I fall asleep?" he asked, his accent completely gone.

DDDDDDD

Isaac walked out of Stiles office and back down into the main floor. Stiles took the imprint wedge out of the chair and stored it away. He walked back into his office, where Peter was waiting for him.

"So how did the new seduction angle go?" he asked.

"Ballard took the bait, and now Victor is starting to like him." Peter looked at him with a look that screamed disapproval. Stiles automatically went into defensive mode, "It was Derek's call. Apparently big bad Ballard was getting too persistent."

Peter was confused "I thought that was the reason you had the file about Victor planted in his office in the first place. Is there even a point to changing his personality?"

"Yeah well, Ballard was too aggressive for Isaac's parameters. We had to give him another angle to exploit," Stiles informed.

"And he'll be none the wiser," Peter realized, "Following a dead end that we set up for him."

"Yep. Ballard will find an empty basement, and will be back to square one," Stiles smiled. Peter watched him walk out. Sometimes Stiles was kinda like a child, finding amusement in his work. Peter looked out the window to see Derek with two other men.

Derek was guiding his two clients. Ethan was much quieter this time around. Maybe it had something to do with Mario's presence, who was roaming around, flirting with all the Dolls that came into his path. Of course they weren't entirely sure how to respond, but he still found it amusing.

"Look at all these choices. I feel like a kid in a candy shop," said Mario, smirking at them.

"How old are you exactly?" Ethan asked with a plain expression.

"Old enough. Why? Does the young boy aspect interest you?" Mario moved up to him and pressed his body as close to him as Ethan would allow, "Because we could leave together right now. No reason to hire a Doll when we can have our own fun."

"I'll pass." He pushed Mario off to the side with one hand, "My needs aren't so primal. Nor do they interfere with my propriety."

"Ouch," Mario threw a hand over his heart with a pouty look, then he smirked again, "Suit yourself. I prefer the absoluteness of a doll anyway. Oh, how about her?" he asked, pointing at the raven haired girl casually walking across the main hall.

Derek called out to her, "Allison, can you come here please?"

She walked over to them and stopped right in front of Derek, "Good day."

Mario walked around her, eyeing her up and down. Mario stopped right in front of her, "I like you."

"I try to be my best," she answered.

"Don't you just love Doll speak?" Mario asked, craning his neck to look at Derek.

"This is Allison, one of our Alphas." Derek ignored his comments again, "If you choose her, I can show you her Betas that can accompany her."

"Perfect."

Derek looked up to see Isaac coming down from his latest mission, "Here comes one now. This is Isaac."

Isaac heard his name and walked over to them automatically. Mario was overjoyed, "Well hello there. You are incredibly pretty. I'll take him. By tonight if possible."

"Of course," said Derek.

Mario began looking around, sticking close to Allison and Isaac, "Hey, where did your sexy friend go?"

Derek looked around, Ethan was gone. "Mr. Carver…."

"Oh never mind, there he is," Mario said. He looked over to see Ethan with Chris. Mario observed him from a distance as they approached them, "Are all the people that work here hot?"

"Mr. Dominic, Mr. Carver. I trust everything is in order," said Derek as they approached them.

"Yes, in fact I…" Ethan began until his phone began to ring, "Excuse me. Yes… Fine….. I'll be right there." Ethan shoved the phone back into his pocket, "I apologize, but I must leave. Mr. DeWitt you have a client. Let's discuss the details on another day."

"I understand. Mr. Dominic will escort you out."

DDDDDDD

Stiles was marking off his checklist of imprint diagnostics when he called out to his assistant, "Cora, can you fetch Danny. I want to run his diagnostic. Dr. Martin should be done with her exam by now," he requested.

"Sure."

Stiles looked out the window, seeing Derek with another man chatting up the Dolls, "Another client. You must be really pissed off today." He commented to himself.

Cora came back, "Stiles, I can't find Danny. Can you check the cameras?"

"Alright." Stiles moved over to his monitor and clicked through the screens. When he didn't see him right away, he began getting anxious, "Huh…. That's odd, and not good."

"Where is he?" Cora asked.

"Um… I think…He's gone." Stiles stood straight up, a little panicked, "Okay, um, call Dominic. Maybe we can fix this before Derek finds out."

Cora looked at him confused, "Don't you usually run to Derek in these situations?"

"Not when he brings down two clients in one day. I am not dealing with an uber angry Derek. He just might kill me. And I do mean literally!" said Stiles, genuinely concerned.

"Well he's coming upstairs right now," she said, her gaze focused out the window.

Stiles got jumpy and started scrambling around the room. He ran over to the imprint chair and tucked himself behind some larger servers. He poked his head out to look at her, "I'm not in here!"

Cora rolled her eyes dramatically as Derek and Mario came into the office, with Allison and Isaac close behind. Derek stood at the entryway and looked around the room. "Cora. Where is Stiles?"

"He uh, went to get his own food for once. I almost punched him," she reasoned.

"Well this is Mr. Ballesteros. He wants Allison and Isaac imprinted for tonight. Tell Stiles he has already filled out the forms for his request. It's in the database."

"No problem. Isaac, Allison, why don't you come have a seat?" She gestured with her hand to the couch in the downstairs sitting area. Allison and Isaac walked over to her and sat on the ground next to her.

"Aren't they adorable?" Mario commented to Derek.

"Well I think our business is concluded Mr. Ballesteros. Why don't we head back up to my office so we can finalize the details?"

"After you." Mario gestured to the door. Derek began walking out when Mario commented again, "I do so enjoy the view." Derek sighed and kept walking.

Stiles slowly crept out as Derek left. Cora walked over to him and slapped him on the arm, "Seriously? Hiding? Are you twelve years old? We need to deal with this!"

"And we will. I would just prefer not to die," he defended himself.

"What are we going to do?"

Stiles walked over and grabbed Allison and Isaac, picking them up from the floor, "First we imprint these two, like nothing is wrong. Then we call Dominic, who will in turn tell Derek for us."

"And by we call Dominic, you mean me," she connected the dots for him.

"That sound like a great plan. Why don't you do that while I imprint these two?" he smiled leading them to the imprint chair.

"I am seriously going to punch you one of these days," she grabbed the phone and began dialing the number.

DDDDDDD

The Devonshire Hotel wasn't too difficult to find. It was the only large desiccated building downtown. Scott found a downstairs passage that was boarded up at the back end of the hotel. He kicked a couple boards in and squeezed through the opening. The inside looked like a giant empty parking garage. Only small streams of light cut through the darkness. Scott pulled out a flashlight and his gun and began searching. He quickly came across some mattresses lying on the floor, covered in old tattered sheets. There were even some women's garments discarded on the ground. That could only mean that Victor was telling the truth.

Scott walked over to a door set in the back wall and began fidgeting with the rusted chain holding it closed. Scott heard a rustling sound. He turned around and felt a sharp pain in his leg as he fell to his knees, his gun knocked out of his hand. Scott looked up to see three guys standing above him. The one in front was holding a board that must have been debris from the building. Scott rasied himself onto one leg looking for a way out of the situation.

"You wanted to mess with the Borodins?" The man with the board asked.

"Actually I didn't," Scott replied.

The man swung at him, Scott ducked so the board made contact with the wall. Scott punched him in the stomach and struck his face, sending him tumbling to the ground. The second guy was on him in less than a second. Scott deflected a punch from him and swept his leg out from under him. His face slammed into the ground, incapacitating him for a moment. The third man had kept his distance and fired his gun, hitting Scott in the stomach and causing him to fall down, barely holding himself up by one hand. The man came up to him and held his gun to Scott's head. Scott grabbed the discarded board and hit him in the head. The second man finally got up and drew his own gun, firing at Scott. Scott grabbed the man that shot him and used him as a human shield, taking most of the shots fired. He grabbed the gun from his now dead human shield and shot at the other man.

As they both lay dead, Scott grabbed the board and pressed it to the first man's throat, preventing him from getting back up, "What do you know about the Dollhouse?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man said disgusted.

Scott took the board and knocked him out, "No one ever does." He grabbed his phone and made a call before he passed out, "Yeah, I need an ambulance. Officer down."

DDDDDDD

"How is it possible for him to be missing? Our security is supposed to be absolute." Derek was upset upon the learning the news of Danny's disappearance.

"I have the footage here." Chris replied calmly. He turned on the monitor in Derek's office and began to click through the images, "A handler was found subdued in the bathroom. His security card was taken. It allowed Carver to take Danny out the back entrance, posing as a handler."

Derek watched as Ethan grabbed Danny and led him out the back. Stealing a van and leaving the underground parking lot. "You were supposed to guide him out of the facility," Derek scolded Chris.

"That's the thing. I never took my eyes off of him. I was with him the entire time." Chris countered.

Derek was confused, "Then how did he manage to pull of this little caper?"

Chris pulled up footage of Chris guiding him out of the facility, and the footage of Ethan leading Danny out of the lot side by side. Derek noticed that the time stamp on both videos was exactly the same. "Two places at the same time. Brothers. Twins. Came in at different times," Chris said.

Derek finally understood. Ethan's weird appearance during his meeting with Mario was in fact the second twin. It was a ploy to ensure that he also got downstairs as well, "They played me. Acted arrogant to get me to lead them inside."

"Then when they both were down there, only one had to hang behind to take Danny," Chris concluded.

"And he had no trouble sneaking out because you and I told him everything he needed to know about our facility. But why the interest in Danny?"

"I checked his records. They were faked," Chris said handing him a file.

"Like Connell's?" Derek asked alarmed.

"No. They weren't as elaborate. There were only good enough to get in the door. Any longer and we would have had them. That's why they moved so quickly. Any attempt to actually hire a Doll would have set off the red flags," Derek flipped through the pages that detailed both of their history. "When I found their real records, I found this," Chris said handing him another file.

Derek looked through it and smiled, "Impressive. What do you think of them Mr. Dominic?"

DDDDDDD

Ethan Carver was actually Charlie Bell. His brother Max sat on the bed of the cheap motel room next to Danny. After getting him out they ditched the van and found a sleazy motel to hide in.

"This was a stupid plan!" Max yelled.

"It wasn't stupid. We got him back." Charlie argued, gesturing to the Doll on the bed.

"And he's a walking vegetable! He's not even Keahu anymore! Watch." Max turned to look at Danny, "Hey, what's your name?"

"My name is Danny," he replied simply.

"They said the programmer keeps their real personality stored away." Charlie refused to believe it, "That has to mean his real personality is somewhere in his mind. We just need to figure out a way to trigger it."

"How do you know? How do you know that he isn't stored on a computer file somewhere?" Max argued. This had gotten way out of hand. Keahu was supposed to be in his body, not walking around questioning the simplest things. They never should have tried this, and now they were fugitives with an empty shell of a person.

"Because it's still him! It has to be." Charlie yelled. Max stood and walked over to the door, refusing to acknowledge his brother's denial, "Where are you going?"

"For a walk," he snapped, slamming the door shut.

"Everybody's sad today," Danny said, looking depressed.

"Yeah, they are." Charlie walked over and sat down next to him, taking his hands in his, "But it will be okay. You'll be okay."

DDDDDDD

"So are we really doing this?"` asked Allison.

"Yeah I think we are." Isaac answered.

"Guys relax, it's going to be okay. Nothing is going to change after this," Mario reassured them.

They made their way downtown dressed in regular clothes. According to Mario's fantasy, they were all best friends and weren't even remotely rich. Mario wasn't too concerned with safety since he had come to expect the presence of the black van that accompanied the Dolls. Not many people noticed it, but he wasn't stupid.

"That's why you're my best friend. You always know exactly what to say," Allison grabbed his arm and leaned into him.

"Hey he is my best friend. I'm the reason this is happening," Isaac insisted, grabbing his other arm and pulling Mario to him.

"Oh really? Then why am I the one that approached Mario?" They both moved to stand in front of Mario facing each other, "You just came to me. The way I see it, I'm the reason this whole thing is happening."

"Well I got the ball rolling," Isaac argued. They glared at each other when they heard Mario laughing. They looked over at him, "Why are you laughing?"

"You both claim to love me, but it's so obvious how you two feel about each other," Mario pointed out. Of course he knew this ahead of time because it was part of what he wanted. He liked the idea of friends desperately in love with each other, "How about this? Why don't both of you start. That way, neither of you can argue who got this started."

"That sounds like a fantastic idea," Allison said.

"You are totally going to want me," Isaac said to her.

"Whatever. You'll be dying to get your hands on me," she countered, giving him a side eye.

As they made it to the cheap motel, Mario saw someone out of the corner of his eye, "Hey, I know that guy. Small world."

"Who is he?" Isaac asked, a twinge of jealousy in his voice.

"Doesn't matter," Mario dismissed, realizing that they would never understand who the man was, "Why don't you guys wait inside? I'm just going to say a quick hello." Allison and Isaac went and got a room as Mario walked over and approached the man he remembered from the Dollhouse earlier today. "Mr. Carver!"

Max froze in terror as he stepped out of the hotel room, he looked and recognized the flirtatious young man from earlier, "Oh. It's you."

"Forgotten my name already? I don't blame you. It's a difficult name to remember. Ballesteros," Mario held out his hand. When Max didn't take it he continued talking, "Now what are the chances of both of us being here at the same time?" he asked teasingly. It came off a little sinister to Max as he was already on edge.

"Coincidence I guess." Max breathed out.

"Huh. Don't you just love how that happens?" Mario smiled, eyeing him up and down as he backed away, "See you around."

To Mario that was just a little more of his playful flirting. But Max took on an anonymous interpretation. Maybe the Dollhouse sent him to scout them out first, "Shit."

Max got alarmed and went running back into the hotel room as soon as Mario was out of sight.

DDDDDDD

Scott was lying in the back of the ambulance, an oxygen mask over his face. The EMT's were working on his bullet wound, trying to seal the blood with the bandages.

"We got gunshot wounds to the right lower abdomen," one of them was keeping a mental record as he worked on him.

The other EMT was flashing a light in Scott's face, trying to get him to talk, "Can you hear me? What's your name, buddy?"

"Chest sounds are good; no sign of hemothorax. He's cyanotic." The other said, checking his wounds as thoroughly and quickly as he could.

"I thought the lungs checked out," he said, dropping the flashlight and grabbing his gear.

"Must be the gases. I'm gonna lay some P.V.C. He's gonna arrest any minute," Scott began to convulse and went still as his heart monitor flatlined, "Here we go!" He pulled off the mask and began working on him, the flat tone of Scott's death ringing through the ambulance.

DDDDDDD

Mario sat in the side chair of the hotel room as Isaac and Allison sat on the bed staring each other. They leaned in to kiss, when Allison suddenly pulled away. She scolded him for trying to kiss her, then she stood to her feet looking at him.

Max and Charlie were in their room arguing. Danny was moving away from them, becoming scared from their continued shouting. Charlie was showing Max a letter, practically shoving it in his face, begging for his help.

Chris and his team were packing up their gear. Erica was joining them again per Derek's request. Chris wasn't too sure about Derek's intentions, but he was in no position to question at this time. They all began moving out, tracking the twins using the tracer inside of Danny to find them.

Isaac stood to match Allison's challenge, taking off his shirt to try and seduce her. As she let herself get flustered she composed herself and took off her shirt, trying to match his game. She refused to let him win. Mario eyed them with curious intent, watching them try to seduce each other.

Max had read the letter and was pulling a car he stole around to the hotel room. Charlie gave Danny a quick kiss, even though Danny was incapable of understanding what it meant, before pulling him out of the hotel room and into the car. They sped off as quickly as they could, unaware they were already being pursued.

Allison and Isaac were on the bed, neither was sure who had won their game of seduction. They looked over at Mario and beckoned him over to them. He got up and moved over to them, lying on his side so he could watch them more closely without being entirely involved. Occasionally Isaac or Allison would grab his hand and place it on them while they continued their game of passion.

Chris and his team were in the van as they moved in on Max and Charlie. It was almost like the twins were driving with purpose. As if they had somewhere they could go to get away. Regardless, Chris and his team would have them in a manner of minutes. Still, Chris felt uneasy of letting Erica take point. But he couldn't argue with Derek on this. He had tried.

DDDDDDD

**One Hour Ago**

"When I found their real records, I found this," Chris said handing him another file.

Derek flipped through it and smiled, "Impressive. What do you think of them Mr. Dominic?"

"I think they're a threat. Just like Crystal was," Chris said simply, making his thoughts about them very clear with the tone of his voice.

"Yes, but Crystal was smarter," Derek glanced up at him from the file, smirking.

"You want them don't you?" Chris realized, "Just like Crystal."

"I'm merely taking advantage of an opportunity," Derek put it simply.

"They won't go for it. They may not be as smart as Crystal, but judging from their behavior they are far more brash and resilient. I say we just put them in the Nemeton, and rid ourselves of the situation," Chris demanded. He wasn't willing to argue about this.

"Your ideas have been noted Mr. Dominic," Derek dismissed, "But that would break a contract I made quite some time ago. In fact, I think they will be very cooperative once I show them this. Now put together a strike team to bring them in. I want you to take Erica, use her as a calming element. I don't want any harm coming to any of them."

"Yes sir." Chris conceded. He wasn't happy, but he couldn't go against Derek when the terms of a contract were in the mix.

DDDDDDD

**Present**

They had been caught. Charlie sat in the room with Derek. He had no idea where Max was. And he had little clue as to what was goijng to happen. He tried to play it cool, arguing with Derek like he had earlier.

"I did what I did to protect someone I love. Can you say that?"

"Maybe not. But I want to see what else you'll do for someone you love."

Derek looked past him at the door as Max came walking in, being dragged in by Chris, "So if this is Ethan, what is your name?" Derek asked Max.

"Aiden," Max answered, trying to keep up the façade of their false identities in the off chance they hadn't figured that out yet.

"Have a seat, Max," Derek said, relishing in the defeated look on his face. "Don't pretend. I know your real name, and I know yours is Charlie," Derek turned to look at the other twin as Chris forced Max down into the seat next to his brother.

"So you know our names," Max was dismissive, as if the information Derek knew wasn't even important.

"I know everything. Our reach is way beyond anything you could ever begin to understand. If you were aware of that, you would never have tried to take Danny away from us," Derek warned him, keeping a professional coolness now that both of them were in the room.

"His name is Keahu," Charlie corrected.

"That's right. You knew him." Derek smiled grabbing the file Chris had given him earlier and laying it out on the table, "You know I was curious as to why you took Danny from us in the first place. It was brash. You didn't play it very smart. Then I read your file, and it all made sense."

Charlie looked down at the open file, seeing a picture of him and Keahu holding hands, "That's right, I love him. And you and your people took him from me. I was just taking him back," Charlie spat at him.

"Well I can't allow that. He signed a contract with me, one that I can't break. He volunteered for this," he informed them.

"You lie! He would never be a part of this." Charlie yelled. He was getting angrier. Even Max was surprised by his outburst. Usually he was the calm condescending one.

Derek didn't show it, but he was giddy on the inside, glad that he was finally hitting them were it really hurt, "He would, for you, and your brother." Derek grabbed Danny's file and handed it to them, "Have a look. This is why he joined."

Charlie snatched the file from him and began flipping through the pages. With each turn of the page his face fell, becoming more emotional with each passing moment. "Oh Kea, what did you do?"

Derek leaned forward, finally having their full attention, "Now, I'm going to make you an offer."

DDDDDDD

**One Hour Later**

Stiles finished running the program as the chair rose up, Danny slowly becoming more lucid. He looked over at Stiles, "Has it been five years?"

"Not exactly," Stiles said hesitantly, looking over at Charlie.

"Then why am I….?" Keahu looked over, finally noticing him, "Charlie?"

"Hi Kea," Charlie smiled.

Keahu stood up and ran over to hug him, "What are you doing here?"

"I'll, ugh, give you two a moment," Stiles said, trying to be respectful. He closed the doors behind them so they could talk in peace. He acted like a child sometimes, but he still respected real love like this.

"I missed you so much. They'll only let me talk to you for a few minutes," Charlie breathed into his neck.

"How can you be here?" Keahu asked, on the verge of letting his emotions boil over.

"I could ask you the same thing, but I already know the answer," Charlie countered.

Danny pulled back looking at him utterly astonished, "You know why I…..?"

"To pay for Max's treatment?" Charlie cut him off, "Yeah, I know. But how did you even find this place?"

"I had been hearing rumors. When Max got sick, I started following those rumors, letting it be known that I wanted to make a deal. After that, they found me. It was a little simpler than I thought it would be."

"Why didn't you tell me? You just disappeared," Charlie asked, looking hurt.

"It was part of the deal," Keahu tried to comfort him, feeling terrible about what he must have went through, "You couldn't know anything. And I didn't want you to wait around five years for me. As long as you had your brother, I knew you would be okay. I knew you would move on, and find love with someone else."

"Well I didn't. I found you," Charlie smiled halfheartedly, cupping Keahu's face with his hand. It was so relieving finally seeing him again, but the circumstances that led both of them here had been so awful. Events out of their control. And now they would have to wait a little bit longer before they could finally be together.

"How did you find me?" Keahu asked.

"Same way you found them. I heard rumors. I followed them, and then me and Max made a plan to get in. Took a little bit longer than you did though. You've been gone about 5 months."

"You could have been hurt, or worse," Keahu scolded him, concerned.

"And you expected me to leave you with these people?" Charlie defended.

"They won't hurt me, and they aren't supposed to hurt you either. It was in my contract, but I don't know what they'll do if you provoke them. But as long as I'm in here, I will be okay."

"I know, but I still don't like it. Besides, I think I impressed a couple people in my attempt to get to you."

"Who?"

DDDDDDD

**Several Hours Ago**

Max came rushing into the room, terrified, "We need to go now!"

"Max." Charlie said calmly.

"I saw one of the guys from the Dollhouse out there. I think he might have been sent out to look for us. I thought he was a client, but I think they were onto of us from the very beginning. We need to leave now!"

"Damn it Max! Look!" Charlie shoved a letter into Max's face. Max snatched it from him and began reading quickly.

_You were fools to try and take someone from the Dollhouse the way you did. Still, I respect the steps you were willing to take and how far you actually got. I would like both of you to help me. I have a personal score to settle with the Dollhouse and I think both of you could be very useful. However, the Dollhouse is currently pursuing you. If you can reach the address enclosed in the envelope before they catch you, I can help you disappear. But if you fail, you will be brought into the Dollhouse and the consequences may be dire. If you are lucky, they will offer you a deal. I suggest you take it if they do. I recommend you burn this letter as soon as possible. I can't help you if the Dollhouse knows that I exist. Good luck._

"What the hell?" Max asked.

"I don't know, someone left it as soon as you left the room. I'm not sure what to think of it, but I don't think we have a lot of options. If someone from the Dollhouse is really here, then that can't be a coincidence. We need to go to this address now."

"How do you even know if we can…"

"Do you have a better idea?" Charlie yelled. Max said nothing and handed the letter back to him. "Go get a car! I will take care of the letter, and bring Keahu out," Charlie ordered.

Max left the room and Charlie proceeded to burn the mysterious letter, noticing a symbol on the envelope.

DDDDDDD

**Present**

"Well who sent it?" Keahu asked.

"I don't know. The only thing on it close to a signature was a spiral," he replied.

Danny thought about it for a moment, "Like the Rossum corporation logo?"

"No. It was only one spiral, not three."

"What do you think that means?"

"I'm not sure. I'm not sure if I ever will now. But they were willing to try and help us. Who knows, maybe they'll try and help us while we're here."

Keahu looked at him slightly scared at his use of 'we', "What do mean?" Charlie bowed his head, feeling a little bit of shame for what he did, "Oh Charlie what did you do?"

DDDDDDD

**One Hour Ago**

"Now, I'm going to make you an offer."

"Why should we believe any of this?" Max argued, taking the file out of Charlie's hands and throwing it on the table.

"I'm not the one that has been lying all day, and despite whether you believe me or not I can make all of this go away," Derek opened Danny's file to the last page, "This is Danny's original contract. He has signed on for a five year term, and has only served for several months now. I can't break the contract, but I can change it instead."

Charlie looked at him skeptically, "In exchange for what?"

"Your services. If both of you sign on, then your indiscretion will be overlooked, Danny will only have to serve two more years starting the moment you sign your own contract, and both of you can have a two year service instead of the obligated five years. When your time is over, all three of you can leave together."

Derek smiled at them pleasantly, seeing the resolve waste away from Charlie. Derek placed the joint contract in front of them, and a pen next to it, taunting them. Charlie leaned forward and signed the paper immediately.

"Charlie what are you doing?" Max asked alarmed.

"What choice do we have? This is our best option," Charlie's face portrayed nothing but grief and defeat.

"We will take care of you," Derek reaffirmed. Max looked at the contract, and back at Charlie. Charlie gave him a look and Max couldn't help but feel this was somehow connected to the mysterious letter. He couldn't let his brother go through this alone. And who knows what would happen if he didn't sign it. Max sighed and signed the contract.

DDDDDDD

**Present**

"I can't believe you did that," Keahu said, holding his hands in a comforting manner.

"I did it for you," Charlie smiled sadly at him.

"You really did all of this, just for me?" Keahu smiled.

"Did you really think I wouldn't?" Charlie said. Keahu leaned forward and kissed him.

They heard a cough coming from behind them in the middle of their passionate embrace. Stiles had walked back into the room, "Um, sorry to interrupt, but time's up. I have to put him back in the chair."

Keahu looked back at Charlie and held onto him desperately, as if he was about to be ripped from his arms, "How am I supposed to leave you again?"

Charlie grabbed his hands and began slowly walking him backwards to the chair, "Because the next time you come out of that chair, I will still be right here. Waiting for you."

Keahu leaned back, sitting in the chair, holding Charlie's hand. "I'm starting the wipe now," Stiles warned them. A courtesy he never really afforded anyone.

The chair descended and Keahu looked up into his eyes, "I love you." And before Charlie could reply, the wipe started, and Keahu was gone. Charlie set his hand back on the chair as he waited for the wipe to finish.

Stiles looked at him, "He's not heartless you know." Charlie looked over at him confused, wiping away any trace of moisture from his eyes. "Derek," Stiles told him.

"Could have fooled me."

"He never lets people have a moment like this. He does care, in his own angry way. He even saved me."

The chair rose up and Danny looked at Stiles, "Did I fall asleep?"

Charlie looked at Stiles before leaving, "Maybe you still need saving."

DDDDDDD

Kira walked down the halls of the hospital. She was carrying a small vase of flowers with her when she saw a cop standing in front of one of the patient's rooms. She realized that must have been where Scott was. She walked over to the room and was immediately stopped by the cop.

"I'm sorry I can't let you in," she said.

"Oh, but um, Scott's a friend of mine and, I was just.. I wanted to see him and make sure he was okay." Kira said. She looked over her shoulder through the little window in the door and could see Scott lying on his side, facing away from the door.

"Look ma'am, I can't let you in. I have my orders."

Scott could hear some conversation outside, but couldn't quite discern what it was. He was more wrapped up in his thoughts. He couldn't believe Victor had set him up so easily. This entire time he thought that he was playing Victor, but Victor was playing him. He couldn't believe how good Victor was at feigning his emotions. One thing he was sure of though, was that he was getting closer to the Dollhouse. If Victor had to set him up to get him out of the way, he must have been getting closer than anyone would have thought possible.

**Kind of a short chapter I know. I'm not too thrilled with it, but let me know what you think. Reviews are love! Tell me your favorite parts, or what surprised you. Anything! I hope you are enjoying the story.**


	4. Episode 4: The Beacon

**AN: I own nothing, obviously. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I may have pushed the envelope on how much content I could handle. But if I don't try, I'll never get better.**

**Also spoilers and chapter links can be found at . . This page is specifically for this story and any other writing projects I will pursue in the future.**

**Episode 4: The Beacon**

"I really enjoyed my time Derek. I must say you do provide quality service," Mario said. After his weekend with Allison and Isaac he felt the need to make another appointment with the attractive businessman.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Derek smiled politely.

"Oh I definitely did. I can't wait to see who else is in this house for me to play with."

"I assume you want to see them now. We do have twins that just came in. If you remember Mr. Carver, he and his brother have joined our ranks," Derek informed him.

"Really?" Mario was surprised, "They're Dolls now? I thought they were clients?"

"That's a misunderstanding. They were actually volunteers the entire time," Derek lied. The last thing he wanted was a well known client to realize how dangerous things could be, "I was merely showing them the facility they would be staying in."

"Uh, huh," Mario wasn't completely sold on that idea, but if he got to spend time with Carver and his twin brother, who was he to argue? "What are their names, and which one did I meet?"

"Ethan and Aiden. You met Aiden. I thought the names had a ring to it," Derek smiled devilishly. He decided to use the fake names they had given him when they infiltrated the Dollhouse. It was a little reminder of his victory over them. He did so enjoy little things like that.

"Well I must say I'm very excited to spend time with them, but not right now. I have a trip planned, but I'll be back soon enough," Mario informed him.

Derek scrunched his face up in confusion, "Then why schedule this meeting?"

"To tell you what a great time I had. And of course a reason to spend time with you isn't so bad either," Mario flirted, winking at him.

"As that may be, I would highly recommend you only make these appointments for when you intend to actually enlist our services. We have other clients that must be attended to," Derek scolded him with a firm tone. The constant advances were beginning to become a little bit irritating. Still Derek was nothing but professional.

Mario took his glasses of to polish them and reacted to Derek's dull tone, "Oh come on DeWitt. You need to have more fun. Get out there and live life with that hot body of yours. There's a whole new club scene you just wouldn't believe."

**DDDDDDD**

The crowd was gathered around the large stage as a cage began to rise from the floor. The lights were dimmed to keep the contents of the cage shrouded in darkness. As the music started getting louder, the lights would flash brighter in tune with the music. A woman could be seen inside the cage, wearing black knee high boots, a mini skirt that barely covered anything, and a shiny red top that was little more than a bra. She had her hands on the bars of the cage, tossing her long black hair back and forth to the tune of the music.

The cage rose off the stage, letting her out. She walked up to the front of the stage, letting everyone see her. Ruby Russell was the shining star of the Beacon, the hottest dance club in the country. There were several locations in major cities across the U.S. The Beacon was unique in that it appealed to all fetishes, orientations, and fantasies. There were several floors and separate rooms, each with their own theme. There was burlesque dancing, stripper shows, private dance rooms, and even rooms for sexual encounters. A person's pleasure could go as far as they were willing to pay.

Ruby Russell was the singing go-go dancer. Since there was no nudity involved in her performances, she was more streamlined than the other performers. She had talent and looks, fitting into the unique celebrity status that the Beacon provided its best performers. She even had her own cover albums and dance videos that sold. The best dancers of the Beacon traveled around the country, putting on special performances like this. The owner and creator, Niklaus Morgan always went with them and was currently watching the show from backstage.

**S & M – by Rihanna**

**Performed by Ruby Russell**

**Ruby: Feels so good being bad. There's no way I'm turning back. Now the pain is my pleasure. 'Cause nothing could measure. Love is great, love is fine. Out of the box, out of line. The affliction of the feeling. Leaves me wanting more.**

Canisters on the stage spat fire out as the background dancers marched onto the stage.

**Ruby: 'Cause I may be bad but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air. I don't care, I love the smell of it. Sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me**

One of the female dancers moved toward the back of the stage when the fire canisters went off again. She had been standing in front of it and immediately caught fire. The music cut out as stage workers ran onto the stage to put out the fire. Ruby looked back at her in shock as two security guards grabbed her and pulled her off the stage.

"Get her locked down now!" Nik ordered, as they ran past him.

Everyone in the crowd was horrified. They all whispered to each other as the workers tried to care for the young girl on the stage. But there was one person in the crowd, standing completely still. He looked at the stage, a faint smile on his lips.

**DDDDDDD**

Allison, Erica, Ethan, and Aiden were running on the treadmills in a corner of the Dollhouse. Allison and Erica went to step off and rest. Allison wiped the sweat off her face with her towel, while Erica took a drink of water. Erica began to leave the station when her body began to wobble and she stumbled forward. Allison reached out and grabbed her before she hit the floor.

"I'm sorry. I was dizzy," Erica said, rising fully to her feet now.

"I didn't want you to get hurt. You're my friend," Allison said.

"Friends help each other out."

"Yes, they do," Allison smiled. They grabbed their stuff and went to go clean off, leaving Ethan and Aiden at the treadmills. Lydia had seen the whole interaction, but was more focused on the twins. She had to keep an eye on their progress inside the house since they were still new. Peter saw her watching them and approached her.

"How are they?" he asked.

"Fitting in nicely," she replied simply.

Peter turned to look at them, "It was a brave thing they did."

"They never should have tried it," she replied, writing something down on her clipboard.

"You don't think it's worth the risk? Trying to save someone you love?" Peter asked her, perplexed by her answer.

Lydia stopped writing and looked up at him, "It's not about love Peter. It's about going against the Dollhouse. It's not safe, for anyone. They just got lucky."

"Is it so hard for you to imagine? Doing something stupid for someone you care about?" Peter asked, wondering how much she really let herself feel.

"It's my job to care for all of them. I don't have the time to be stupid," Lydia jotted down something quickly and walked back into her office.

**DDDDDDD**

Scott walked slowly into his apartment. He had been discharged from the hospital that morning. Coming off the medication and having to go fetch a prescription was not exactly the most pleasant thing in the world. As soon as he closed the door he stripped off his shirt, letting the bandages wrapped around his torso breathe. He slowly sat down on the couch, trying not to strain himself. He set down the bag containing his prescription. He leaned forward and reached under the couch. He pulled out a gun and rose to his feet as quickly as he was able to, turning to point it at the dark corner of his house.

"Don't shoot me!" yelled Victor. He stepped out from the shadows with his hands up.

"How'd you get in here?" Scott demanded.

Victor held out the lockpicks in his hand, "Your…Your locks are crap."

"Get out," Scott demanded.

"You got to help me. Please! Put me in Witness Protection. Uh, get me out of town! Just listen to me," Victor panicked.

"The last time I listened to you, I got a hole through the gut," Scott was pissed. He had a lot of nerve to try and pull this move.

"I didn't set you up!" Victor pleaded, practically reading Scott's mind.

"You sent me to an ambush!" he yelled.

"They were going to kill me too!" Victor insisted.

Scott grabbed the photo of Crystal he got at work off the table. He rushed over to Victor, forcing him against the wall with his gun, and holding the picture in front of his face, "Who is she?" Scott demanded.

"A pretty girl," Victor babbled. He didn't know what he was talking about.

"She is a pretty girl. Pretty and lost. You know lots of girls like that," Scott tried to lead him on.

"Not her," he insisted.

Scott wasn't listening, "Is she the reason they want me dead? Her name's Crystal. Bells ringing?!" Scott yelled, pressing the gun into his head.

"No! I gave you a tip! Somebody gives it to me, I give it to you. That's how it works!"

"Who gave you the tip?"

"Boom, you get shot, my old, nice life, over. I can't call my friends. I can't go home. I don't have any money," Victor began rambling on.

"Who gave you the tip?! Was it her?!"

"A voice on the phone. A…A man. Not old, not young. Uh, accent. Sounded Georgian maybe. Russian Georgia, not Sweet Home Georgia."

Scott dropped his gun and took a step back, "Alabama."

"What do I know? It's confusing, this country," Victor looked up, finally seeing the bandages on Scott's torso. Victor couldn't help but notice the well defined muscles the bandages didn't cover. Victor blushed and dropped his gaze, "The Borodins used me to get to you. That means they know I talk to you. The FBI! I am a dead man if you don't help me."

"How can I believe anything you say?"

"Because I don't want to hurt you! I don't want to see you…" Victor stopped, holding himself back from saying something that could turn out badly for him.

Scott realized that Victor was still attracted to him. Or maybe he was just pretending to be. It was hard to discern. Still, the sooner he got him out of his life, the better. "If I help you, I never hear from you again," Scott told him.

"Never?" Victor asked, feeling a twinge of hurt and relief.

"As in ever," Scott confirmed, still very much upset.

"Okay," Victor agreed. Maybe that was for the best. "Thank you."

"Stay here. I'll see what I can do," Scott said, stuffing his gun into his jeans. He grabbed a button up shirt that he had set out to dry and tried to pull it on without straining himself.

Victor walked up to him and helped him pull his arm through the sleeve, "here. Let me." Victor began buttoning up his shirt, his face feeling warm as his hands made contact with Scott's chest. Victor stepped back, realizing that Scott was watching him curiously.

Scott moved away from him toward the front door, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

**DDDDDDD**

"Hello, Nik," Derek greeted as he entered his office.

Niklaus Morgan stood by the window of Derek's office, taking in the sight of the city. His dirty blonde hair seemed to glisten in the light. He approached Derek and gave him a quick hug. He wore sunglasses, and immediately began complaining, his British accent still as thick as ever, "What is this, a greenhouse? I'm photosynthesizing in here."

"All right," Derek rolled his eyes, and clicked a button on his computer, making the large windows dim with a special tinting. Derek figured Nik's habit of eluding bright lights had something to do with the dark neon lighting of his clubs that he was more used to.

Nik took off his sunglasses, and sighed, "Bless."

Derek took a seat and crossed his legs, "What can I do for you Nik? It's so unlike you to come here given our past disagreements."

"Someone's trying to kill Ruby," Derek looked at him with surprise. "And to my utter astonishment, it isn't me."

"Kill her? Are you certain?"

"Did you hear about the accident in New York? Flash pot with a double charge. Girl on fire," Nik said.

"It wasn't an accident?" Derek assumed from his tone of voice.

"Actually, it was, yes. We changed up the choreography that day. Should have been Ruby standing there," Nik said, a grim expression on his face.

"Was that the only time?" Derek asked concerned.

"No, we had a lighting rig come loose in Philly. Got tangled up in the flies."

"How's Ruby dealing with all this?"

"I'm worried about her. She seems erratic, disconnected lately. Even moodier if that is physically possible. Here, have a look at this," Nik walked over to him and handed him a folder filled with letters and creepy cut out pictures, all of Ruby. They were all from the same person. "Ruby's had stalkers ever since she started working, but this guy…."

"And to think, some people don't believe in everlasting love," Derek said sarcastically, glancing over the letters.

"Meanwhile, Ruby needs to be protected and not by bodyguards. Oh, she hates those guys. Yes, feels like a prisoner, blah-biddy, blah-blah-blah," Nik went on, exaggerating his gestures to make a point of how irritating she could be. "Anyway, this guy can dodge them. No, what she needs is someone by her side that she likes, she trusts, and will protect her without even knowing she's supposed to."

"So there's risk?" Derek asked.

"Absolutely. She's got to be willing to take a bullet for my girl." Nik said.

"I will try to make sure it doesn't come to that." Derek deflected, confident in his Doll's abilities.

"I also want protection for three of my other top performers. If Ruby's in danger, they could be as well."

"Well I'm happy to provide the service for an old friend, but I thought you disapproved of our practice," Derek smiled, amused by Nik's very presence.

"I'm low on options in this situation Derek, but yes. I still think it's immoral. Taking people with compromised pasts, making them serve the every whim and need of whoever buys them off of you," Nik gave off a condescending attitude.

Derek rose to his feet, meeting his challenge, "Like it's so different to what you do. Granting the every wish of whoever has the biggest checkbook. At least our experiences are genuine."

"Are they? Your so called volunteers have no idea what they really sign up for. Sure, you tell them how they'll be cared for, but never about the degrading things they'll probably participate in. At least my performers have the free will to do whatever they want."

"Yes but who's to say they really want to do it? We give our Dolls the privilege of not having to remember everything they did while they were here. But if so much as one of your performers feels forced, they must suffer with those memories for the rest of their lives," Derek almost yelled.

"Memories make us who we are. Taking that away from them, let alone five years of it, is unacceptable. You make them disappear from the face of the Earth," Nik spat out in disgust.

"The experiences of our Dolls are discreet. You parade your performers around in the spotlight like Hollywood celebrities. Letting the whole world see what they are."

They glared at each other, not moving at all. Nik was at a loss for words, "Fine. So there are downsides to both our professions…..." Nik and Derek stared at each other a little bit longer, before a smile crept onto both of their faces. They began to laugh lightly. "I have missed this," Nik said.

Derek walked over to the counter and poured himself a glass of whiskey, "I think I won this round. What's the score now?"

"I'm not really sure there's a point to keeping count now," Nik smirked, "But I think I still have you beat by one on the morality of the subject."

"I have you on the originality of it," Derek countered.

"Well, playing with technology like this isn't playing fair."

"Still, you've held your own. When this matter is resolved we do have new twins that may interest you."

"What kind?" Nik asked curiously.

"Male twins. Identical," Derek said, taking a sip from his glass. Despite their disapproval of each other's professions, it wasn't like they didn't have a past.

"Tempting. But aside from this situation at hand, I'm not a client anymore Derek."

"I understand," returned to his chair.

Nik took a seat across from him, taking Derek's drink from his hand and taking a drink, "You know you could still come to the Beacon with me though. Just like old times. I could give you a private show with my best dancer."

"Who's that? You?" Derek raised his eyebrows.

"I haven't danced in a long time. But I would gladly come out of retirement for a night if you agreed to come with me," Nik winked at him teasingly.

"I just don't feel the need to go to the Beacon anymore Nik," Derek sighed.

"Oh come on. We hardly ever see each other anymore ever since I started traveling with the performers. We can be mates again."

"Maybe. But first let's focus on protecting your performers before we make any plans. What we need is a credible reason for our Dolls to be in their lives," Derek informed him.

"Yes, well, as it happens, in light of the recent accidents, we do have some openings."

**DDDDDDD**

Nik and Ruby were watching Allison sing on stage. She had made it through the dance routine part of the audition with flying colors. Only her and a handful of other girls had made it. Allison was coming to the end of her song, and Ruby was enthralled. Nik was very impressed and hoped that Ruby would agree to work with her.

** Big Girls Don't Cry (It's Personal) - by Fergie**

**Performed by Allison and Ruby**

**Allison: …..But it's time for me to go home. It's getting late and dark outside. I need to be with myself and center. Clarity, peace, serenity. I hope you know, I hope you know.**

"I really love this song," Ruby said to Nik. She obviously seemed to like the initial impression of Allison, but Nik needed her to really want to be her friend.

"I have the feeling that she could be trouble." Nik took a breath for effect, "I smell attitude."

Ruby side eyed him and then walked away from him, approaching the stage. She stood next to Allison, watching her sing.

**Allison: That this has nothing to do with you**

**Both: It's personal, myself and I. We've got some straightenin' out to do**

**Allison: And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket**

**Ruby: But I've got to get a move on with my life**

**Both: It's time to be a big girl now. And big girls don't cry.**

**Allison: Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. La Da Da Da Da Da.**

"Ruby, love, perhaps we should just take a minute to, um, you know…" Nik said, gesturing her to follow him so they could talk.

"Get her working," Ruby said, stepping off the stage and walking past him. Nik smiled. She had just played right into his hands. If there was one thing he knew, it was his dancers. And he had not only gotten Allison hired, but made Ruby take a very special interest in her.

"I got the job?" Allison asked excitedly.

"Yes, yes. You, uh, you got the job," Nik answered, holding back his smile, showing only a pleasant grin.

"Oh my god!" Allison squealed.

"Why isn't she working yet?!" Ruby yelled from backstage.

"Oh god," Nik sighed, letting his head fall back.

**DDDDDDD**

"She's a bodyguard?" Lydia asked. She was in Stiles office consulting with him as she usually did whenever there was a high risk engagement.

"She's a singer," Stiles corrected. He walked over to the monitors on his desk and gestured to two separate screens. They didn't really demonstrate much other than vital signs and brain wave activity. Only Stiles, and to a lesser extent Cora, could understand them. "Persona and parameter: Two separate elements. Persona: She's a struggling singer who just got her first break. Parameter: She must protect Ruby, which she will do instinctively and unconsciously at all times."

"So she doesn't even know she's a bodyguard. And this makes what better?" Lydia was skeptical of the idea. A bodyguard that wasn't aware of it could be in serious danger.

"Who do you want? Someone who's paid to protect you or someone who wants to protect you? This is the beauty of we do," Stiles didn't even have to look to know Lydia had a disapproving look plastered across her face, "Not to stress. We're sending in backup anyway."

**DDDDDDD**

Danny was on stage, auditioning to be a stripper in the Beacon. Nik was watching the auditions with his best stripper Jason, one of the performers that traveled with him and Ruby. His handle was the innocent cowboy stripper, due to his humble nature and thick southern accent. Still, his shaggy blonde hair and toned body made him one of the best in the club, and there was definitely nothing innocent about that.

Danny was dancing to Eric Prydz's Call On Me, one of Jason's favorite songs to dance to. As the music started, Danny began shaking his hips back and forth, feeling up his chest with his hands. He grabbed hi shirt and pulled it back, making it skin tight and showing off the outline of his abs. When the beat dropped he tore his shirt in half straight down the middle, exposing his incredibly toned body. As he danced around the stage to the music, he slipped off the shreds of his shirt. Danny dropped down to his knees, and slipped his belt off in one fluid motion. As the music dropped lowed into the bridge, he unbuttoned his pants and proceeded to crawl on his hands and knees toward Nik and Jason.

Jason was giddy, and looked over at Nik, "That looks great. I think he's perfect."

"Are you confident in your choice?" Nik asked, a skeptical tone in his voice.

Jason withdrew into himself, hesitant that maybe Nik wasn't as impressed as he was. "Well, I think, um. Well I guess we could wait a bit longer if you wanted someone else. I could pull some extra shifts."

Nik rolled his eyes, trying to get an honest answer out of him, "Do you think you would work well with him?"

"Yes sir," Jason nodded.

"He's hired. Start practicing with him." Nik got up to leave so he could convince his other performers to hire the Dolls Derek had provided him with. Jason looked back at the stage. Danny was standing there, still shirtless and his pants unbuttoned. The song was over quick and he had stopped dancing when they started talking. It was unlikely that he heard them, but Jason just smiled uncomfortably.

**DDDDDDD**

Nik walked into the Burlesque Room. Sara was sitting in the audience seat, watching Ethan run through the routine. Nik had arrived just in time. Sara's strawberry blonde hair and pale skin had earned her the title as the fox of the burlesque dancers. Also, her constant teasing contributed to the name. Nudity wasn't uncommon in burlesque dancing, but she never did it.

Nik turned his focus back to Ethan. He had on dress pants that were attached to suspenders, covering his nipples and accentuating his large pecs. As he danced, he pushed his pants down, showing off his hips and revealing the neatly trimmed hair above his groin. Nik took a seat next to Sara, "Well?"

Sara looked at Ethan intently, like she was analyzing a painting, "He's showing too much skin. This dance is about the tease. Otherwise he might as well just go do a strip show like the others."

Nik sighed, "You're probably right. He might be more trouble than he's worth," Nik paused for a moment trying to think of the angle to get convince her otherwise, "I doubt you could do anything to fix that."

That was it. Nik pretended not to see her glare. She stood up and interrupted Ethan's dance, "Hey you! What's your name?"

"Marcus," said Ethan

"You're hired," she told him.

"Awesome!" he smiled.

"Go wait in the changing rooms. We'll go over the routine. We've got some work to do," She ordered. Ethan grabbed his shirt and left the stage. She had her hands on her hips, looking back down at Nik still in his seat.

"Something you want to tell me?" Nik asked, a satisfied look on his face.

"Just that I'm going to fix him and make him the best burlesque dance partner ever." She walked down the aisle toward the stage.

"Was it something I said?" Nik asked innocently.

"It's always something you say Nik!" she yelled.

**DDDDDDD**

Cato was sitting at the bar, waiting for his shift to start. Nik walked up to him, an attractive young man at his side. Aiden followed Nik closely, examining the young man at the bar. He was young, and wore a black leather jacket. Nik had told him that Cato was their bad boy companion, an escort for hire. Nik used the term "companion" to remove any social stigma that was associated with the position. Companions were expected to care for their clients and show them a good time, on a personal and sexual level. Despite not being a mainstream dancer, Nik still took Cato on his travels.

"Cato, this is Ian. He's a new companion that's going to be working with us. I want you to work with him for the next couple days. Show him the ropes."

"Figuratively or literally?" Cato asked sarcastically, taking a drink from his beer.

"Funny," Nik said plainly.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with Ruby's stage accidents, right Nik?" Cato asked irritated.

"I don't know what you could possibly mean," he scoffed, leaving the pair to get acquainted.

"I hate you Nik. You're screwing with my work!" Cato yelled after him.

"Then quit!" Nik yelled, not even faltering.

"Smug bastard," Cato whispered to himself.

"So there have been some accidents around here?" Aiden asked.

"Yeah. Everyone else around here thinks that they are done by some crazy fan though," Aiden scoffed, not even bothering to look at him.

"And you don't?" he asked curiously.

"No. it's just some incompetent staff workers causing trouble. That's all. No one could actually hate us that much."

"Nik seems to think it's true," Aiden debated innocently.

"Yeah well he's just acting like a bitch. Trying to make our lives hell so we'll work harder for him."

"You don't seem to like Nik very much." Aiden was surprised by his attitude problem.

Cato finally stood to face him, "That's really none of your business."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," Aiden backed down, holding his hands up in surrender.

Cato rubbed his hand over his face and took a breath to calm down, "Look, don't worry about it. My history with Nik is complicated. All you need to worry about is becoming a companion."

"I thought I already was," Aiden said.

"Sarcastic. That's good," Cato gave an indication of a smirk. "No, you were hired as a companion. I'm going to teach you how to interact with a client before having sex with them. Specifically the bad boy routine."

"Routine?"

"Yep. It's my thing, and if you're going to work with me, you need to learn that as well as some basic rules. So we should get started." Cato ushered Aiden to follow him, making their way to the private rooms.

"Sure. And technically, I think I'm the one that's going to be screwing with your work."

Cato almost laughed, and walked out in front to hide it, Aiden following closely behind. He ran his hand over his face again and got rid of the smile. He wasn't going to let anyone see it.

**DDDDDDD**

Scott walked back into his apartment carrying a file. Victor was peering out the window behind the cover of a curtain. He heard the door open and rushed over to Scott.

"What took you so long? There's a car out there. Two guys, motor on," he ranted.

"This is West Hollywood. Two guys in an idling car isn't news," he ignored Victor's concerns. He shed his jacket and threw the file on the coffee table.

"So, who am I going to be? Uh, John Smith, maybe? I got a good American accent." he didn't. It was very thick with Russian undertones.

"You're gonna be Victor Lubov," Scott informed him.

Victor looked at him, a little puzzled and scared, "I don't… I don't get it."

"I may have misled you about the "me helping you." I needed you to stay put while I put you front and center on every "be on the lookout" list from here to New York. If you try to leave by plane, train, or automobile, the FBI is going to be all over you. We won't be discreet. I'll personally drop you off at the Borodin's doorstep, and make sure they know we're friends."

Victor took a step back. Scott had just betrayed him, and it hurt. "How could you? You want me to die?"

"I don't want you to die, but if you do, there's a lot to learn from a dead body," Scott began to unbutton his shirt. He was acting completely nonchalant about what he did, "I know how the Russians kill. I know their favorite weapons. I know where to look for bruises. I know which body parts they like to chop off and what message they want a body to send."

Victor was astounded. His voice was soft as he spoke, "I tried to help you."

"If your body turns up and tells a different story, well, then that'll give me information, too," Scott went on. He didn't feel too bad about someone who had tried to kill him.

"The FBI doesn't work like that. You can't… you can't do this!" Victor backed up to the front door, ready to start running.

"I'm a screw-up, remember? My C.I. shows up dead, nobody's going to blink. Nobody's going to care." Scott moved forward, causing Victor to react and walk out the door.

Before Scott could close it, Victor stopped it with his foot. He looked at Scott deep into his eyes, portraying all the anger and hurt into what he said next. "You put on your mean face, act tough, but you will care, Agent Ballard. That's your problem."

Victor left and Scott sealed the door shut. He refused to think about what Victor told him. He couldn't care. Not in this situation. Not now.

**DDDDDDD**

The following morning the dancers for Ruby's show were in the practice studio down the street. Ruby was running through her main routine with the background dancers. Allison was stationed over in the corner with the other background singers working on their harmonies while a seamstress took her measurements for the night's stage outfits.

Ruby dipped down into a crouching pose while the other dancers moved in on her. She stood up immediately and turned to address her dancers, "All right, stop. Stop, stop. That's what I was talking about. You guys gotta come in tighter on me on the eight. You move any sooner than that, and I'm gonna be steppin' all over you like a hot mess, okay? It goes boom, pop, and seven and eight. Hit that."

"That's fine, but Jordan, softer on your consonants," one of the stage workers told Allison.

"Okay. I haven't seen all the lyrics yet, so I'm kinda flying blind here," Allison told him.

He walked away yelling, "I need a lyric book for the new girl now!"

"They're not very good lyrics," one of the singers laughed.

"A lot 'ooh's and 'ah's?" Allison joked.

"Yes." They all giggled.

"Try not to move, please," the seamstress ordered. She was on her knees taking in Allison's leg measurements.

"Oh, sorry," Allison apologized.

"So is this your first big gig?" the other singer asked.

"Big one? Yes. I've been working a lot, but nothing like Ruby Russell. I mean, this is the dream gig," Allison sighed, looking around to take in the surroundings and savor the experience. Immediatelly she noticed a lot of large men in black security guard outfits. "What's up with all the muscle?"

"Oh, you heard about that accident, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, first there were three bodyguards, now there's eight. Plus a whole security staff. And they don't bring in her fan mail anymore. What I hear, it goes straight to the police." The seamstress took her measurements and walked over to the back costume rack.

Allison and the others heard yelling and looked over to see Ruby scolding the dancers again, "Stop, stop. Let's do it one more time from the top."

"And what about her? Diva or diva?" Allison exaggerated the last word to express serious distaste.

"It depends on the day," one of them answered a little too quickly. She quickly corrected herself. "I mean, she's the real deal. She's earning it."

The stage hand returned with three lyric books for Allison and the girls, "All right, ladies here you go. We had to replace the monitor board, so you are gonna have to get there an hour earlier."

"Thank you."

The seamstress came back with a thin black material and handed it to Allison, "Bra off, please. Try this on." The other girls walked away realizing how uncomfortable this might make the new girl.

Allison looked around at the crowd of people, "Should we, uh, go to the bathroom or…"

"Honey, you've got three quick changes during the show. You may only be a go-go dancer, but they're all gonna see your stuff sooner or later, so you might as well get used to it."

Allison reluctantly took off her tank top and unhooked her bra. She took the outfit and fitted it over herself. It was a narrow material that barely covered her breasts. It also had no straps so it gave an illusion that it could slip off any moment. However it was incredibly form-fitting, and had a shiny red lining that really accentuated her assets.

Allison looked around at the organized chaos around her, "Is it always this crazy?"

Before the seamstress could answer, Ruby started yelling, on the verge of a complete meltdown, "Okay, stop. Stop! Who's eating a mint? Somebody is eating a mint! Okay, I-I can't breathe…"

Nik quickly stepped in to calm her, "And I think we're done here. Ruby, darling, let's get you over to the venue."

"Yes," Ruby relaxed at the chance for escape. She followed Nik and stopped in front of Allison, "Hey, now that you're done flashing everybody, you want to roll with me to sound check? We can go over your harmonies in the car."

"Cool with me," Allison said, grabbing her clothes and following them out.

The other singers watched the exchange and scoffed, "Well, looky who's pick of the week."

**DDDDDDD**

Chris stood in Derek's office, giving him the updated report on Scott, "Ballard didn't take the Alabama lead. And he doesn't believe Isaac anymore. He put him on the watch list of the F.B.I. database."

Derek took a seat at his desk and looked out the window, irritation showing on his face, "He's being more stubborn than I expected. I assume you took care of this?" Derek was upset that Stiles would have to shelf the Victor imprint.

"Yes. All the records Ballard laid out on Isaac have been removed." Having a friend in the F.B.I. really did help in situations like this.

"Good. We will need to rely on other forms of surveillance now. Set up a team. It's time we made things a little more direct. A confidant just isn't going to cut it in this case."

"Yes sir."

**DDDDDDD**

Allison was dressed up in her stage outfit, and walked up to Nik. He had a habit of watching Ruby's performance from backstage ever since the accidents started. "Right, so, I know this isn't my place, but I was just walking off my nerves, and I noticed there's no security by the freight elevator. And it seems like somebody could get in there. You know, if you're worried about a homicidal fan or something."

"Good eyes, Jordan," Nik commented. He looked at her impressed. She was already protecting Ruby.

Outside in the van, Peter had his headset on, talking to Stiles while he queued up the video and audio set up for the stage.

"Erica should come into play in a minute," Stiles told him.

"Who's handling her?"

"Joe Finstock. You won't like him," Stiles half laughed, remembering his own unpleasant encounters with the handler.

Peter looked at the clock, "Allison's on in 15. Okay. Okay," he breathed out anxiously.

Stiles smiled in surprise at Peter's show of emotion outside of disapproval, "Oh, my god, are you nervous? Opening night jitters? Your little girl out there on the big stage?"

"On the stage where the last little girl caught fire?" Peter countered.

"A fair point," Stiles replied, quieting down.

"I mean, her singing's not a problem. It's not, right?" Peter started getting anxious again, "I mean, she is a good singer. I think she's good. She wouldn't freeze up?"

"She'll be fine, Mama Rose. What's the deal with Ruby? You got the inside edition. Is she cool? What's she like?"

"If you like shallow, vapid, narcissistic girls," Peter said.

"Really? Shallow? She seemed so earthy and normal in her interviews. You just can't trust people anymore. You think you know someone."

Isaac rose from the chair, his Victor imprint finally wiped. He had spent the night wiping out all his old connections. The Victor imprint was ready to finally be put away. "Hello Isaac," Stiles greeted.

"Did I fall asleep?"

**DDDDDDD**

Allison was still backstage, her nerves beginning to get the best of her. Ruby walked up and looped her arm through hers, guiding her to the stage. Ruby was dressed in an outfit just like Allison's, but it was bright red with black highlights.

"Deep breaths help to prevent pre-show barfing. Nik taught me that trick," Ruby told her.

Nik came up to them, a young blonde girl in a dress and glasses following close behind him, "Ruby, this is Audra, winner of the #1 fan contest. She flew all the way in from Australia."

"Oh, hey, sweetie, I'd love to hang, but I've got a show to do. You understand, right?" Ruby dismissed her quickly, barely even looking at her.

"Of course. Oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god," Audra jumped up excitedly, her accent strong.

"That was weird," Ruby said to herself as they made their way onto the stage.

"Weird adoration?" Allison guessed.

"No, what's weird is that I don't even notice it." Ruby laughed.

**DDDDDDD**

**Touch My Body – by Mariah Carey**

**Performed by Allison and Ruby**

**Ruby: I know that you've been waiting for it, I'm waiting too. In my imagination I'd be all up on you. I know you got that fever for me, hundred and two. And boy I know I feel the same, my temperature's through the roof.**

Ruby came up on center stage, pulling Allison along with her. She danced around Allison, letting the audience eat it up.

**Allison: If there's a camera up in here then it's gonna leave with me when I do, I do. If there's a camera up in here then I'd best not catch this flick on YouTube, YouTube. "Cause if you run your mouth and brag about this secret rendezvous, I will hunt you down. "Cause they be all up in my business like a Wendy interview.**

Allison pulled Ruby into her. Ruby rubbed hands all over Allison's body as she sang, making a seductive look toward the audience. Then she stood and pressed her body flush against Allison. Allison stared directly into her eyes, as Ruby wrapped her leg around Allison, leaned back, and tossed her hair back and forth.

**Ruby: But this is private, between you and I.**

Ruby stood up tall, and they both proceeded to hold hands, teasing and rubbing up against each other as they continued to perform. The stalker had made his way into the club, this time on crutches pretending to be injured.

**Both: Touch my body. Put me on the floor. Wrestle me around. Play with me some more. Touch my body. Throw me on the bed. I just wanna make you feel like you never did. Touch my body. Let me wrap my thighs. All around your waist. Just a little taste. Touch my body. Know you love my curves. Come on and give me what I deserve, and touch my body.**

At the same time, Ethan and Sara were performing to the instrumental version of Cells by the Servant. Sara had planned a Sin City themed dance. She wore bright red lingerie to highlight her hair, and offset her skin to make it look pale white. Ethan was in his black dress pants and suspenders, the lighting on him dark to make the stage look like a black and white canvas.

**Ruby: Boy you can put me on you like a brand new white tee. I'll hug your body tighter than my favorite jeans. I want you to caress me like a tropical breeze. And float away with you in the Caribbean Sea.**

Cato and Aiden were on both sides of a lovely female client. They were chatting her up in a booth before they took her to the room. She had paid for both of their services so one of them wouldn't have to sit back and watch.

**Allison: If there's a camera up in here then it's gonna leave with me when I do, I do. If there's a camera up in here then I'd best not catch this flick on YouTube, YouTube. 'Cause if you run your mouth and brag about this secret rendezvous, I will hunt you down. "Cause they be all up in my business like a Wendy interview.**

Danny and Jason were dancing to Call On Me again. All the dancers were dressed in sports equipment. Jason wore football gear, Danny had on a lacrosse outfit, and the third dancer had on hockey gear. They all shed their helmets, grinding their hips while Jason worked the stripper pole.

**Ruby: But this is private, between you and I**

Allison and Ruby both did a dip forward, showing off their cleavage to the audience before continuing to feel each other up. The stalker moved to the back of the crowd where no one noticed him. He found an access ladder that was out of sight that led to the rafters. He quickly made his way up.

**Both: Touch my body. Put me on the floor. Wrestle me around. Play with me some more. Touch my body. Throw me on the bed. I just wanna make you feel like you never did. Touch my body. Let me wrap my thighs. All around your waist. Just a little taste. Touch my body. Know you love my curves. Come on and give me what I deserve and touch my body!**

Sara was dancing on a pedestal, while Ethan danced around, pushing the guys off the stage away from her. Ethan stood on the pedestal, slipping off his suspenders as he did so. Sara grabbed him and pushed him to the ground, straddling him so he could slip off his pants off out of the view of the audience.

**Ruby: I'm gonna treat you like a teddy bear you won't wanna go nowhere. In the lap of luxury baby just turn to me. You won't want for nothing boy I will give you plenty.**

**Ruby: Touch my body!**

**Allison: Throw me on the floor.**

**Ruby: Throw me on the floor!**

Cato and Aiden had guided the client to their room. Cato kissed her roughly and pushed onto the bed. Aiden came up behind him, and ripped his jacket off, before climbing over the client and giving her a more tender kiss. Cato crawled up onto the bed and pulled off her pants.

**Allison: Wrestle me around, play with me some more**

**Ruby: Oh touch my body**

**Allison: Touch my body, throw me on the bed**

**Both: I just want to make you feel like you never did**

Jason and Danny were down to their jockstraps. Jason had on his shoulder pads, and Danny still had on his knee pads. Danny took advantage of the pads, sitting on his knees while he grinded his body up into the air, occasionally bending over so the audience could see his ass. Jason had his back to the stripper pole, his hands behind him holding it as he slowly rocked down into a crouching position, making his bulge look even bigger.

**Allison: Touch my body, let me wrap my thighs**

**Ruby: let me wrap your thighs around your waist**

**Allison: All around your waist, just a little taste**

**Allison: Touch my body. Know you like my curves**

**Ruby: I know you like that**

**Allison: Come on and give me what I deserve and touch my body**

**Ruby: Come on and give me what I deserve!**

As all the performances wrapped up, Cato took a backseat to Aiden, letting him do most of the work. He sat back and watched how tender he could be. Sara was teasingly unclasping her bra, letting the straps fall, but making no move to remove it. Ethan on the other hand, was dipping his underwear down incredibly low, enough that the audience could see part of his groin. Jason and Danny were having so much fun. They all slipped off their jockstraps, covering their manhood with their bare hands. As the music came to a stop they raised their hands up, letting the audience drink in the sight of their naked bodies.

**Allison: Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah**

**Ruby: Oh yeah, oh yeah**

**Both: Oh oh oh oh yeah**

Ruby and Allison finished their song and laughed, hugging each other. The crowds for all of the performances cheered loudly, tossing money at the stage. The stalker pulled his crutches apart, pulling out the pieces to a large rifle. He hid them away, and made his way back down. He looked up to make sure he could see the stage from this spot. He went back down the ladder before anyone could notice. He only needed one more day.

**DDDDDDD**

Ruby and Allison had changed their clothes after the show. Ruby led her to another section of the club that was much more exclusive. Well supposedly. There were almost as many people here as there was on the dance floor.

Allison looked around nervously, "Are you sure this is safe?"

"This is my party," Ruby reassured her.

"You know all these people?" Allison asked skeptically.

"Girl, relax. We're surrounded."

Allison looked around again, whispering to herself, "I know."

They walked up to a booth in the center of the back wall and saw a girl sitting there. It was Erica, holding some kind of fruity drink that probably had more juice than alcohol. She rose to her feet at their presence.

Ruby turned around to address the bodyguard that was stationed at their table, "What in the hell is this skank doing at my table? I told you –"

Nik cut before Erica could hear her, "Ruby! You remember Audra, yes, winner of the online video contest? She's your #1 fan."

"Why do you always try to hurt me?" she whispered to him.

"Be a saint," Nik said, making a praying gesture with his hands. He left her knowing she would just throw a fit otherwise.

Ruby took a deep breath and walked over to Erica, pasting on a fake smile, "You have no idea how much it means to me that you're here tonight. Have a seat."

The second they sat down, Erica began talking incredibly fast, "Uh, I just have to say, you are so beautiful and talented, and, and you saved my life. I had your first dance video before any of my friends, and, you know, I-I told them…"

"Okay, okay. Slow down. Listen, sweetheart. You can just hang. Okay? Turn off fan mode and turn on, um, what's your name again?" Ruby asked.

"Audra."

"Turn on Audra mode."

"Audra mode," Erica said awkwardly, pushing up her glasses, "Okay."

"What are you drinking?"

"Oh, it's a Shirley Temple. They're delicious. Plus, I'm a lightweight, and I want to be able to remember every single detail of my time with you."

"Oh, geez well, you're making us feel like alcoholics over here. Why don't you have some champagne?" Ruby made a gesture to a waiter and he immediately came over and presented Erica with a glass of champagne from his tray.

"Okay," Erica smiled, taking the offered glass.

Allison laughed to herself in astonishment, "Unbelievable. I mean is it always like this? People just do whatever you tell them to?" she asked Ruby. Allison looked at Erica and leaned forward, testing her theory, "If she wanted you to take off your clothes and run down the street right now, just for kicks, would you do it?"

"Oh, um, with or without my undies?" Erica asked, completely serious.

A man started approaching the table incredibly fast. Allison saw him out of the corner of her eye. He reached into his jacket as he came up to them. Allison shot up and grabbed him, pulling his free arm behind his back and sent him tumbling forward into a neighboring table.

Ruby and Erica stood to see what had just happened. The security guards were haling the man to his feet. A large broken camera was in his hand. Allison realized she had made a mistake as he was pulled out of the club.

"Damn, girl. You need to chill," Ruby told her.

"That was so cool," Erica said.

"I'm a southie."

**DDDDDDD**

Joe Finstock entered the van carrying two cups of coffee. Peter didn't even bother to look up from the computer, "It takes 40 minutes to get coffee?"

"You had eyes on 'em. Besides, my girl only comes into play in an extreme scenario. What you got there?" Finstock sat down, leaning over to glance at the screen.

"Ruby's fan sites. There's hundreds of these things."

"Ah, a bunch of crazies," Finstock reasoned.

"That's what I'm looking for. Our man had to have been on this somewhere."

Finstock almost laughed, "Right. You're the ex-cop. Investigating is somebody else's problem," Finstock took a drink of his coffee and then addressed Peter, "We just keep an eye out, pull our girls when the job's done."

Peter eyed him and decided to change the subject. He didn't exactly like hearing how much this handler didn't care. Where did Derek get this guy? "This Erica is new, isn't she? What happened to the previous Erica?"

"She got the job done," he answered. Peter finally looked at him, and that's when he noticed it. The lack of remorse in his eyes.

**DDDDDDD**

"Man you did such a great job out there tonight! That little twist you did at the end was perfect! I knew it was a good idea to hire you!" Jason smiled. Him and Danny were walking down the street, headed home.

"Really? You seemed unsure when I first auditioned. It looked like you were having a pretty deep conversation with Nik," Danny commented.

"Well that was just…" Jason got nervous and shook it off. He didn't want his best new dancer to know that he almost passed on him, "It doesn't matter."

"It's just what?" Danny persisted.

"It's Nik's show. I just thought he should have the final say. It's his reputation," Jason answered simply.

"Isn't it yours too? You're on that stage every night. You're the one that has to work with me. You should have just as much of a say, if not more."

"It doesn't work like that. It's…" Jason was starting to get very self-conscious in the presence of these questions.

"Says who?" Danny asked. Jason said nothing. He just kept walking. "Jason, says who? Why do you think you have less of a say?"

"'Cause He's in charge!" Jason snapped, "He used to be a performer like me. He was amazing, and… I could never be that good."

"Are you afraid you won't live up to expectations?" Danny reasoned.

"It's more than that. I try my best every time. I try to make him happy. And it's just…"

"You can tell me," Danny said soothingly.

Jason came to a stop on the empty sidewalk, "Why am I telling you?" Jason asked, realizing that he was spilling his guts to a complete stranger. For some reason it made him very emotional and act up, "I hardly even know you! Am I that fucking pathetic? Am I really that weak that I can't imagine my life where I… where I…"

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Danny rested his hands on Jason's shoulders, "Come on. You're not pathetic, and you are not weak. I defy anyone to get up on that stage and do what you do."

Jason sighed, "The truth is I'm just so scared of leaving. I try to be my best, and I try to keep Nik happy because I love this place and I just don't wanna go. I can't imagine what my life would be like outside of the Beacon. I don't want to go" Danny pulled him into a hug, "I don't wanna go," Jason cried.

**DDDDDDD**

"You did pretty good tonight. But you're still too raw. Too exposed. You need to pull that in some more," Sara told Ethan. They were sitting in the audience seats, having a private drink away from the crowds.

"Is a little exposure such a bad thing? It's what we do." Ethan told her.

"No it's not what we do," Sara replied upset, "It's what everyone else does. We are different from them."

"Better?" Ethan led on.

"I didn't say that," Sara snapped.

"But is that what you think?" Ethan asked curiously. Unsure of what to think of her if it was true. "Do you think you're better them because you don't have to expose yourself the way they do?"

Sara tried to hold a plain demeanor, "Burlesque dancing is an art form. It's true expression, and it's…"

"You're not answering the question." Ethan cut in, "Do you think you're better than them?"

"No!... No I don't. Just fucking stop!" Sara rose to her feet, "I'm not better than them. I'm weaker, because I can't do what they do!"

"Sara…" Ethan breathed out. What did that mean? How could she possibly be weaker than everybody?

"No! Just stop. I never should have said anything." Sara dropped her drink onto the table and walked off toward the backstage.

"Just let me…" Ethan got up, trying to follow her. He needed to understand what she meant. He had to help her. He wasn't sure why he had been so invasive, or why he cared so much. But he had to help her.

"Leave me alone. I don't want to see you until tomorrow's show. And you will not be pulling those moves again. Not in my show," Sara threatened him. She climbed onto the stage and left him behind. How could she be so stupid?

**DDDDDDD**

"So are we going to talk about what happened back there?" Aiden asked Cato. They were sitting at the bar on the club floor. The crowd was still going but was beginning to thin out.

"What? Never had a threesome with another guy before?" Cato joked.

"It's not that. I just…"

"Look if you're falling in love with me, then that's your problem. I can't tell you how to deal with that." Cato pulled back a little.

"That's not what I'm talking about," Aiden insisted. Man this guy could be really annoying. "When we were with the client, you were distant. It's like you stopped and just let me handle the rest."

"Yeah, well, it's your first time. I figured I'd let you take the reins on this one."

Aiden wasn't so easily duped. There was something else, "Yeah, but I'm still new. They're not hiring us for me. They're hiring us mostly for you."

"Look, just leave it alone," Cato warned him, "I actually like you, for whatever reason. And that's rare, so drop it."

"Cato. Talk to me." Aiden said firmly.

Cato got really pissed now. He didn't like being ordered around. "I don't have to tell you anything! What makes you think I would?"

"Because I care about you?" Aiden offered.

"Why?" Cato asked confused and dumbfound, "You've known me for like a day. Why do you care?"

"I… I don't know." Aiden stuttered, "I don't know, but I do."

"Yeah, well people don't like me, okay? That's how it is. I'm not likeable," Cato informed him. Aiden obviously hadn't gotten the memo. "People only use me for my body. They want me to be mean to them. That's what they expect. That's what I am! And that's not changing so stop trying to care about me," Cato ordered. Cato started to walk off before they caused too big of a scene.

"No! There is obviously something wrong." Aiden followed behind him. He felt a sudden need to understand what he was going through, "Do you hate your job? Are you ashamed? Just tell me something so I can help?"

Cato turned around suddenly. Aiden thought Cato was going to punch him, but he just stood there, "You want to know something, fine! I'll spin it for you real quick. The problem is I love my job. I should feel disgusted and ashamed on some level for what I do. Any normal person would. But I don't. I love it because I feel like I'm helping people. In some strange way I feel like I'm doing good."

"I-I…" Aiden faltered. That didn't make sense. If he liked his job so much, why was he so angry all the time?

"There. Now you know something. So leave me the fuck alone."

**DDDDDDD**

The next night, Allison was dressed up in her new outfit. She was more excited about tonight now that she had experienced the rush of having been onstage. She approached Ruby's dressing room and knocked.

"What?!" Ruby yelled from inside.

"It's me!" Allison replied, laughing. She probably thought it was Nik.

The door quickly opened, Ruby standing there in a bathrobe. "Get in here," she grinned.

Allison walked in to see a corner filled with orchids. They sat on top of a table that was as big as a kitchen table. "Damn, girl," Allison commented.

"Oh, aren't they gorgeous? You know, orchids are the symbol of pure affection," Ruby inhaled the scent and walked back over to her mirror and sat down.

"You sure have a lot of them."

"They help me relax."

"Nice. I could use some of that," Allison sighed. She may have been excited, but she still felt the anxiety of performing.

"Have you ever felt so unbelievably alive?" Ruby was unusually excited. She was giving off a strong and positive energy, "This is gonna be the best night of my life. I am ready. I am so ready!"

Allison saw a stack of letters sitting on a stool. She got curious and looked them over. She wasn't sure why. She had never been so nosy before. "Hey, I thought you weren't getting fan mail anymore," she called out to Ruby. "These people think they actually have a relationship with you."

"Comes with the territory. My music touches people, so they want to touch me back."

"Shouldn't the cops be getting all this stuff?" Allison asked concerned.

"Oh, those are old." Ruby said.

Allison grabbed one that was written on red paper, "This one isn't. It mentions last night's show. These are all from the same guy," she shifted through the rest of the letters. Suddenly the realization dawned on her, "It's him. The one they're all afraid of. You're communicating with him?"

Ruby had gotten a little more serious, not moving as she continued to apply her make-up. "He's my #1 fan. Audra's a sweet girl, but she's got nothing on him."

Allison couldn't believe what she was hearing, "Yo, he's not a fan. He's insane!"

Ruby got upset and stood to face her, "What do you know? You're a background singer. A wannabe! A nothing."

Someone knocked on the door and yelled, "Three minutes!"

Ruby plastered on a smile that seemed almost sinister now, "Show time. The biggest show ever."

She shed her robe so she was in her usual red outfit. She left the room and Allison stood there stunned. She had to do something. She had to think of something. Suddenly she noticed something over by the flowers out of the corner of her eye. She walked up to them and lifted up a vase. Under it was a note on the same red paper that her stalker had used. She picked it up and read it. **Tonight will be your last. Goodbye.**

Allison dropped the note and ran out of her dressing room. She saw Ruby backstage and caught up to her.

"Don't do this!" she yelled after her.

"This is what I do." Ruby replied.

"He's gonna kill you! I think you know that."

"You have no idea what it's like."

"You can't go out there!"

"You don't tell me what I can and can't do," Ruby snapped.

"You want him to shoot you. Onstage, tonight. You're crazier than he is."

Ruby made her way down the stairs and entered the cage. Ruby become almost sad for a moment, answering, "I'm not crazy. I just want to be free." The cage began to rise up onto the stage, leaving Allison behind.

Allison could hear the music start and she rushed off to search for Nik. He had to be here. He was always here, to keep an eye on Ruby. "Nik!"

**I'm a Slave 4 U – by Britney Spears**

**Performed by Ruby Russell**

**Ruby: I know I may be young, but I've got feeling s too. And I need to do what I feel like doing. So let me go and just listen.**

Allison found a security guard, realizing that he would have to do, "You have to stop the show!"

"Jordan, get your ass stage left," he ordered.

"Where's Nik?" she demanded.

"I'll take you there myself," he grabbed her arm and started to pull her.

Allison yanked her arm back and warned him, "I will smack you!"

**Ruby: All you people look at me like I'm a little girl. Well did you ever think it'd be okay for me to step into this world? Always saying little girl don't step into the club. Well I'm just trying to find out why 'cause dancing's what I love.**

Ruby grabbed her two shirtless male dancers and pulled them into her. She ran her hands up and down their toned chests, completely selling the sex appeal. The stranger had his made his way in the same as yesterday. He went back up to the rafters, to finish assembling his rifle.

**Ruby: Get it get it, get it get it, whoa. Get it get it, get it get it, whoa. Do you like it? Get it get it, get it get it, whoa. This feels good.**

Sara was onstage doing her Sin City theme night dance again. This time she had chosen someone besides Ethan to be her main partner. She had pushed him into the background.

**Ruby: I know I may come off quiet, I may come off shy. But I feel like talking, feeli like dancing when I see this guy. What's practical is logical. What the hell, who cares? All I know is I'm so happy when you're dancing there.**

Cato and Aiden were tense. The room could feel it and no one was willing to approach them because of it. They just sat at the bar, sipping their drinks in silence.

**Ruby: I'm a slave for you. I cannot hold it. I cannot control it. I'm a slave for you. I won't deny it. I'm not trying to hide it.**

Jason was reorganizing the show with Danny last minute. One of the dancers had injured themselves so Jason had to rework the routine to create symmetry onstage.

**Ruby: Baby, don't you wanna, dance upon me? I just wanna dance next to you. To another time and place. Baby, don't you wanna, dance upon me? Are you ready? Leaving behind my name, my age. Lets go.**

The music went into an intermission, the beat still going in a loop so Ruby could talk to the audience. Tate had already made his way back onto the upstairs walkway. He pulled out the final pieces of his rifle and began assembling it.

"You guys got me in the mood tonight," Ruby exclaimed. The audience cheered in excitement. "I want you to meet somebody special. This person reminds me why I do what I do." The stalker finished assembling the pieces of his rifle and looked out the shutter to take his aim. Ruby was talking, almost taunting him. He smirked at the idea. "You know who you are. Come on. Show yourself. Give it up for my #1 fan." The stalker stopped, his attention now on the blonde girl that walked out onto the stage "This is Audra."

Erica lifted her microphone up awkwardly "What up, Los Angeles?" Ruby pretended to laugh at her cuteness.

Allison finally found Nik standing by the head security guard. She marched up to him, "He's here. I feel it. I know it."

"Stop the show," he ordered the guard.

"Because the background singer said so?"

"Do it!"

"There's no way psycho got through security. You know how many extra guys I hired just for tonight? Just relax." Allison began to make her way onto the stage. "Hey, wait a minute," he went to grab Allison. She quickly spun on her heels and kneed him in the crotch.

Anoother guard went to grab her but Nik just waved him off. Allison wondered onto the stage and grabbed one of the lights on stage. If this guy was really going to kill Ruby tonight, then he was probably going to shoot her. Which means that he would probably need to be somewhere high up. She moved the light across the walkways and rafters. She saw something shine, and stopped the light, seeing him.

The stranger felt the light on him and reacted, shooting at the stage. Allison ran over to Ruby, "Ruby get down!" Allison tackled her to the floor. Erica got down and the crowd began to panic and run away. The stalker freaked out, and pulled the gun apart. He had to get out now.

**DDDDDDD**

Ruby stormed into her dressing room, Allison hot on her heels. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Ruby yelled.

"With me?" Allison was astounded by her state of mind.

"You shut down my show."

"I saved your life!"

"You've got no understanding of my life," she scoffed.

"Okay, are there any drugs you're not on? The guy was about to put a bullet in you, which, P.S. Also stops the show."

"You disappointed all those people. I was gonna give 'em a show. Now all they'll say is I didn't give 'em a finish."

"They don't want to see you die," Allison said, trying to appeal to her as a friend.

"Do you know anything about people? They'd love to see me die."

"Rayna you are not okay, okay? You are having a breakdown. Not a shave-your-head, flash-your-junk whacky phase. You are truly unwell."

"So he puts me out of my misery," Ruby reasoned simply.

"What misery? What have you got to be miserable about?"

Ruby scoffed, spouting sarcastic comments, "No, you're right. I got to be happy. I got to be grateful. I got to be rebellious, but just enough to give me cred, so people know I'm not a factory girl." Ruby turned to the mirror, leaning over onto the table to look at her reflection, "But I am. I don't exist. I'm not a real person. I'm everybody's fantasy. God help me if I try not to be. God put this voice in me and forgot to make it mine. I don't feel it. I don't feel anything. For a long while now. But I know he's out there, the reaper, and any minute now," Ruby made an explosive gesture with her hands, and felt a rush of excitement, "freedom. There's your rush. There's your joy. I can hear. I can hear myself!"

Allison looked at her like she was insane, "I think you hear yourself just fine. If you don't like your life, change it."

"They won't let me!" Ruby yelled.

"You make them let you. You're feeling pain, but all you're doing is spreading it around. You know the last thing I ever thought you'd turn out to be was weak."

Ruby got angry at that last comment, "I want you out of here. You say anything to biz, I'll tell every psycho fan I got right where you live, and you won't last a day."

Allison was in disbelief, "Oh, this gig was supposed to change everything for me, and now I'm thinking it did."

Ruby grabbed Allison by the arm and started pushing her out of the room, "Get your scrawny ass out of my sp…."

Allison pushed back, catching Ruby off guard. "You can fire me, but bitch, don't think you can take me." Allison shook her hand free of Ruby and left, "Have fun with your fan."

**DDDDDDD**

The commotion had increased. Some people were trying to leave, and others were trying to get back in. Erica walked up to a security guard that was busy trying to organize the crowd inside.

"Uh, excuse me. Sir, sir, um, I'm supposed to be inside." She held up the pass that was hanging around her neck, "Um, I'm Ruby's #1 fan. I was onstage."

"Go around back. Ask for a guy with a clipboard."

Erica walked out of the club. She walked around back down the alley. She hoped that Ruby was doing okay. She could only imagine how terrified she must have… Erica's thoughts were caught off as someone grabbed her from behind, wrapping a hand around her mouth to muffle her screams.

**DDDDDDD**

"Jason. Are you alright?" Danny asked. He was sitting in his dressing room, a security guard stationed outside.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just can't believe what happened," Everyone had heard the gunshots echo through the building.

"It's pretty crazy," Danny replied.

"Thank you, for trying to protect me. I know you didn't have to. You barely know me, but, ugh, thank you." During the altercation, Danny had immediately grabbed Jason on instinct and pulled him backstage away from the crowd.

"It was instinct."

"But I don't want you to protect me." Jason told him, "If anything like that ever happens again, I want you to protect someone else. Someone that's not me."

Danny felt bad. Did Jason not appreciate himself? "I don't get it. Why.."

"Because I care about other people. I want them to be safe, first and foremost. I care about the people here, and I will die before I let you or anyone else gets hurt."

"Jason." Danny was truly impressed. Jason wasn't that self conscious after all.

"Look I know I'm usually shy and kept to myself. Sometimes the innocent act isn't always an act. But I if there is one thing I am going to be adamant about, it's gonna be this."

Danny sat next to him and smiled. "You really are a good person Jason. You know you don't always have to be so reserved. You have passion for this place. For this job. For these people."

"What are you saying?" Jason asked.

"I'm saying, maybe, when this is all over, you should talk to Nik. Don't be so scared of upsetting him, and tell him that you want more responsibilities around here. That you want to be in charge of shows and organizing them."

"What?!" Sure Jason had shared stuff with him, but what brought this on?

"Why not?" Danny laughed, "That last minute arrangement you pulled out for our show, before everything went to hell, was amazing. You can do that and more."

"I don't know." Jason contemplated the thought.

"You say you love this place. That you don't want to leave, and that Nik used to be a performer."

"So what's your point?" He wasn't seeing the connection.

"My point is why can't you end up just like him? Why not become something more to this place. You could direct shows, even become a manager. You can still dance as much as you want, but when you don't want to, or when you can't, this place can still be a part of your life."

Jason smiled at him, "It's a really good idea, but….I'll think about it."

**DDDDDDD**

"Sara. Are you okay?" Ethan asked her.

"Is anybody? I mean I was listening to Cato. He was always spouting how they were stupid accidents, but I knew. Somewhere deep inside I knew. And when I heard those shots, I thought she was…." Sara took a breath. "Earlier when I said I wasn't better than the others, I meant it."

"You don't have to talk about that now." Ethan didn't care. He was more concerned with her well-being.

"No I need to talk about it now, or I never will." She was defiant, "The truth is, I'm jealous of them. Of all of them. I really do consider burlesque an art form. It helps me express myself, and feel free. But to expose myself, that last piece of vulnerability and freedom….. I just can't do it. I'm scared."

"Come on Sara. You kick ass. This is not impossible. You can go out on that stage and be who you are. You can do whatever you want."His motivational speech may have been a little corny, but he actually meant it. Sara could feel that.

"I came close once." She told him. "I was onstage and was dancing with these large fans made of feathers. I actually unhooked my bra and took it all the way off. But the second I did that, all I could do was hold that fan as tight to my chest as possible. I couldn't do it."

"There is a solution to that," Ethan assured her.

"What is it?" Sara asked, really hoping he had some really great advice.

"Do it by yourself," he said simply.

That sounded stupid, "Okay I'm still waiting to hear this solution of yours."

"What I'm saying is, do it at home, by yourself. Dance like you would dance onstage, and then expose yourself. Look in a mirror while you do it too, so you can see how strong, and confident, and sexy you are."

"You really think something that simple could fix this?" Sara said skeptically.

"Maybe it will, maybe it won't. But if you do it at least once, that will tell you everything you need to know. And I think you should do it alone because if you really think of this as art, well… Art is for yourself. It's for you and you alone. Then you can decide if you want to share it."

Sara was really moved by how much this total stranger cared for her. It was like he was brought her for the sole purpose of helping her. She leaned forward and kissed him. It wasn't romantic, but friendly. "Thank you."

"Come on. I'll walk you home. Make sure you get there safe." He grabbed her hand and led her out.

**DDDDDDD**

Aiden walked up to Cato. He had decided to hide in one of the companion's rooms. "I was wrong," Cato said, sitting in a chair in complete silence.

"About what?" Aiden asked. Well at least he was talking to him.

"People," Cato replied. "About how much they could really hate us. I was wrong. And here I thought I was doing something good. I was just trying to do something good!" Cato got up and grabbed his chair, throwing it across the room.

"Cato! Calm down!" Aiden panicked.

"My life has always been hell! I thought that if I acted like a bastard all the bad things in my life would stay away! But it didn't work! You think I like being an asshole? I don't! You think I hate Nik? I don't! I owe Nik everything. He saved me! He took me in and saved me from my family until I could take care of myself! My own family hated me! And now the people I thought I helped hate me too!"

Suddenly it all made sense. Aiden was always angry to protect his feelings. And the reason he didn't believe in the accidents was because he didn't want to believe that pain could follow him in the one place he felt safe. But hearing those gunshots, there was no avoiding it. "They don't hate you!" Aiden told him.

"Tell that to Ruby! Tell that to everyone who has ever met me," he spat out.

"I don't hate you!" Aiden cried out desperately.

"Why? Why don't you hate me?" Cato came up, pushing him away. Aiden didn't back down, so Cato just kept pushing him. "Everyone is supposed to hate me! Everyone is supposed to hate…" Cato's breathing became heavy, on the verge of tears. Aiden didn't say anything or move. Cato needed to get this out of his system. Cato kept pushing him, until he was against the wall. "Hate me! Hate me damn it! Just hate me!" Cato cried the last part. He couldn't push him anywhere, so he fell forward onto Aiden, crying into his shoulder. Aiden wrapping his arms around him, letting Cato feel the most genuine emotion he had felt in a long time.

**DDDDDDD**

Ruby and Nik were upstairs on the terrace. They were watching a video file that had been sent them on the laptop. It was a close-up of the stalker that had been harassing Ruby. She knew him as Tate, and that was really all she needed to know.

Tate filled the camera screen, a disappointed look on his face, "Look what you've done, Ruby. You messed it all up. And I want to be able to forgive you, but your actions lately…" he backed up revealing Erica, tied up to a chair in the room. Another alarming detail was that Tate was holding a gun. He walked over to Erica and pointed the gun at her head, "who is this?"

Allison walked into the club, noticing a bit if a crowd gathered around the terrace. One of the backup singers saw Allison and approached her. "I came to get my stuff," Allison told her.

"I thought something might have happened to you too," the girl sighed out in relief.

"What do you mean?"

She looked up at the terrace and replied with a sympathetic tone, "Seems like it wasn't such a good idea to be seen out with Ruby."

"Why her? How is she your #1 fan?!" Tate was getting angry. He was getting jealous, "You gave her what was mine! And I know you said we could never meet in person because it because it would diminish what we have. It would ruin our moment." Allison walked up the steps and joined Nik and Ruby. "Now, you will come meet me in person, and I will not shoot this girl in the brains."

"Lunatic," Nik spat out.

"I kill for you, you die for me. That was the deal. I want to fulfill my part, Ruby." He walked up to the camera, his face filling the screen again, "You have my number. Call me." The footage cut out.

Nik took a moment to process what he had just heard. "Call me?" he looked at Ruby astonished, "You did this?"

Ruby refused to meet his gaze. As she stole a glance at him, Nik slapped her across her face. Allison instinctively grabbed him and pushed him up against the wall, pinning him there. Ruby held the red mark on her face and ran away. Nik stood there, feeling empty. He didn't try to struggle. Somehow in that one moment, everything he did to bring them here, seemed worthless.

"Five years, never done that." Allison let him go now that Ruby was gone. Nik was troubled by these new series of events, "She wanted this. All of it. Otherwise, I never would have…"

"Getting what you want, may not be the best thing for a person," Allison told him.

Nik looked at her confused, "You're supposed to be with her."

"She fired me," Allison rolled her eyes.

"Does that make a difference?" He was playing on her suggestibility. He knew how Derek's Dolls worked.

"No," Allison realized. "I don't know why, but even after everything that's happened, I…" Allison looked at the computer screen, the picture paused on Erica tied to a chair in the background, "I have to help her." Allison ran off alone.

**DDDDDDD**

Chris walked into Derek's office. Derek was currently reviewing something on the monitor, not even looking at him. "Erica has been kidnapped," Chris informed him.

Derek looked at him with realization, "She drew his focus away from Ruby." Derek smiled at him, "Well, that was a good call. Well done."

"Thank you. Her handler's outside the location. I told him to wait for our team."

"Yes, that's best. Allison?" he asked.

"On task. Still protecting Ruby," he reported. He took his leave and went to organize a team.

Before he reached the door, Derek called out to him, "Are you a fan Mr. Dominic?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The Beacon. Are you a fan?" He found his thoughts focusing on Mario and Nik. Something about what they had told him about having fun had struck a chord with him.

"I don't know if being a fan has very much to do with this situation. Not at the level we're dealing with," Chris replied.

"No," Derek agreed, but it wasn't what he really wanted hear. "Get the girl. Close it out."

**DDDDDDD**

Erica was standing in front of a makeshift spotlight that Tate had set up. He had the camera set on the tripod, facing her. "Do it," he ordered.

"I don't want to," she whimpered.

"You got to be near her. To smell her. To touch her. This is your big day. Your time to shine," he smiled creepily.

"I can't remember," she tried to reason.

"Do it!" He shouted. Erica took a breath and began singing in little more than a whisper.

**Erica: Feels so good being bad. There's no way I'm turning back. Now the pain is my pleasure. 'Cause nothing could measure. **

Tate stood directly behind the light, mouthing the lyrics as she sang. In same strange way it made him feel closer to Ruby.

**Love is great, love is fine. Out of the box, out of line. The affliction of the meaning. Leaves us wanting more.**

Tate stopped mouthing the lyrics as she messed up the lyrics, chiming in with a firm tone, "No, no!" Erica began to take shallow breathes, on the verge of tears. She had never been so scared in her life.

**DDDDDDD**

Ruby was in the dance studio down the street. The lights were off, and she danced directly in front of the mirror, watching herself move. Waiting to see if the mirror would show her something that she couldn't see. An abrupt noise caused her to gasp out in surprise. She looked over to see Allison at her side, walking out of the shadows. "What are you doing? You scared me."

"I scared you?" Allison asked in disbelief. "After all this, I scared you?"

"Why are you here? I fired you."

"Look, I'm not here to fight, Ruby. I'm sorry for the things that I said. I just want to know how I can help."

"You can leave," she ordered. She tried to ignore Allison, and continued to dance in front of the mirror.

"Then what are you gonna do?" Allison wanted to know.

"The show must go on."

"You can't be serious." How could someone be so damaged, and so self absorbed? Allison was stunned. Why did she care for this person so much? "This isn't just about you anymore, Ruby. Someone else is in danger."

"We called the police. What else do you want from me?" Ruby continued to act like she didn't care.

"You know this guy. You know what he's capable of. You could stop him from hurting Audra," despite everything, Allison was still trying to get through to her.

"I can't stop him."

"You could try! She's your friend."

"She's a fan." Ruby scoffed, "She'd want me to continue."

"Ruby I know you don't feel anything, or think that you don't, but you will. You will if you do something to save this girl." Allison backed up, fading back into the shadows, "And you will help this girl."

Ruby stood up tall, still looking in the mirror, "What makes you think..."

Before she could finish Allison struck with a folding chair, subsequently knocking her out. Allison dropped the chair and stared at her sprawled out body on the floor, "Friends help each other out."

**DDDDDDD**

Chris's team came storming into Tate's apartment, ready to take him down and retrieve Erica. They searched the entire residence, but came up empty, "Clear!"

One of the soldiers saw a flashing light on the answering machine and clicked the play button. Allison's voice filled the room, surprising everyone, "Hi, fan #1. My name is Jordan. I have Ruby. I want to make an exchange. No funny stuff. I'll meet you where the original plan was supposed to go down. You can have her."

**DDDDDDD**

Chris stormed into Stiles office, shocking the neurotic science nerd. He grabbed Stiles out of his desk and picked him up, slamming him up against the wall, "What the hell's the matter with you?! Are you doing this on purpose or you just terrible at your job?"

"Neither! Doing what?" Stiles shouted out.

"Allison's off task. Your little brainchild just backfired," Chris criticized him.

"Okay, okay, first of all, wow! Secondly, Allison's hardwired to protect the client. Now, sometimes these things play out differently than we anticipate," Stiles tried to calm the situation.

"You'd better check your tech!" Chris yelled.

"That's enough!" Stiles knocked Chris's arms off of him and pushed him back, "You're in my house, Dominic! Of the two people here, one of us is a genius, and the other is a security guard in a very lovely suit!"

Stiles was so rarely angry, it caught Chris off guard. He didn't care if he pissed Stiles off, but he needed answers quickly. He used a calmer, but still upset tone, "All right, genius, tell me why Allison would kidnap the girl you programmed her to protect and bring her to the man who's trying to kill her."

Stiles took a choking breath, "That does sound kind of bad," he answered awkwardly.

**DDDDDDD**

Allison and Ruby were on the overhead walkways above the stage. The ones that allowed workers to adjust the lights and hang the scenery. Ruby had her hands tied in front of her body, and a piece of duct tape covering her mouth. She was struggling in Allison's grasp, while she had her pressed against the side, about to fall over the railing, "You wanted to die. This would be a 'careful what you wish for' moment."

Tate approached them from the other side, Erica standing out in front of him as he ushered her forward with the gun pressed into her back, "Let her go."

"And let her fall to her death? But then I'd have nothing to bargain with," answered sarcastically.

Peter entered the Beacon. He was the closest one to it, and the team had reasoned this is where the exchange would be happening. The club was empty now. He searched the stage looking for any sign of them.

"You drop her, and this girl will have a big hole right in her head!" Tate threatened, pressing the gun into her head, "This girl for Ruby, now!"

"How about this? You let Audra go, throw the gun down there, and I will hand you Ruby. You can do whatever you want with her. Because honestly, I don't care if Ruby lives. She wants to die, and you want to kill her. So basically, nobody wants Ruby to make it to tomorrow."

"I do," Erica whimpered.

"It's not about killing her. It's about giving her what she wants," Tate corrected her.

"Then this is a big, magical moment for the two of you," she answered mockingly.

"Shut up! You can't possibly understand what we have together," Tate was getting angry and pointing the gun at her now.

"True. Maybe Ruby can explain," Allison ripped the tape off Ruby's mouth causing her to scream. Peter heard the scream from the stage, and looked up. He could see figures, but couldn't make them out. He saw a ladder at the far end of the floor and made his way for it.

Ruby was crying, tears streaking her makeup, "I'm so sorry. Please let me go. I don't want to hurt anybody. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt anymore."

"That's really up to him…" Allison told her.

Peter got on the walkway, staying far behind so they couldn't see him. He took aim at Tate, "In position. I have a clear shot."

Chris and Derek were in the office, listening to Peter's audio feed. "We're ready to eliminate the threat. Sir?" Chris waited for the order.

Derek thought for a moment and sat down. "Not just yet," there had to be something else going on here. This situation was no accident. And Allison couldn't have been glitching.

"He decides your fate, right?" Allison taunted Ruby.

"No. Please. He's crazy." Ruby sobbed.

Tate's face fell. "I guess it's not love after all," Allison told him.

"She doesn't mean it," he tried to deny.

"I'm sorry," Ruby told him.

"Ruby, I would never hurt you," he said, adoration in his voice.

"God, now you're changing your story, too?" Allison complained.

"Shut up! I could… I could kill you and have both girls. I could kill everybody!" Tate yelled. This was making him very aggravated.

"No!" Ruby cried.

"She doesn't seem to like that idea," Allison taunted him.

"Shut up. Shut up! I will shoot you."

Allison pushed Ruby down to her knees, leaning her over the edge, "And then I'll let go!" Allison threatened.

"No!" Tate panicked and raised his hands in surrender. Erica made no move to get away in case he decided to shoot her.

"You don't want to die," Allison addressed Ruby, then turned to Tate, "You don't want her dead. This is way too confusing!" Allison shocked them all and pushed Ruby over the edge, sending her flying down to the ground.

"No!" Tate ran over to the spot Ruby fell, pushing Erica into a pole, effectively knocking her out. Tate kneeled onto his hands and looked over the railing. Allison kicked him in the face and hit the gun out of his hand. She punched him in the face and knocked him out. Allison walked over to Erica and helped her up, undoing the knots on her hands.

"Is Ruby okay?" Erica asked, feeling dazed.

Allison rushed back over to the spot where she pushed Ruby off. She looked over the railing to see Ruby hanging by her hands, the rope tied around her attached to the railing. It had worked just like Allison had hoped it would.

"Please don't let me die!" Ruby called out, looking down and then back up, "I want to live!"

"I know," Allison nodded sympathetically. She grabbed the rope and started pulling her up.

**DDDDDDD**

Erica and Allison were walking down the stairs, heading for the exit to the Beacon. "I will have quite the story to tell when I get back to Brisbane," Erica told her.

"What do you mean? This is what every day is like in America," Allison joked.

"Well, part of it was dreadful, but it was by far the most exciting, fulfilling, wonderful day of my life," Erica smiled.

"And that makes you the scariest one of all," Allison laughed.

Two men in business suits approached them. Finstock looked at the two of them bonding and addressed Allison with distaste, "That's all I need, you rubbing off on her."

"Who the hell are you?" Allison sneered.

"Audra, time for your treatment," Finstock ignored her, taking Erica with him. She had responded automatically and was now leaving with him.

"What's wrong with him?" Allison asked Peter.

"Are you ready for your treatment?" Peter said soothingly.

"All right, but can I kick that guy's ass first?"

Peter smiled, wishing he could share her sentiment, "I will seriously consider it." Peter led her out, taking her back to the Dollhouse.

**DDDDDDD**

"She's a risk. An increasing risk," Chris argued. Allison's impromptu confrontation had rubbed Chris the wrong way. As a result he did what he usually did. He proceeded to argue with Derek.

"She had control over the situation," he responded.

"But we can't control her! I'm recommending that we send Allison to the Nemeton. Before someone else ends up dead, or worse, she compromises this organization."

"I believe she acted in our best interest," Derek disagreed.

"She went off mission!" Chris persisted.

"In fact, I believe she did quite the opposite." Derek said matter-of-factly, "She stopped the person who wanted Ruby dead. It just happened to be Ruby herself. And by quite literally dangling the threat of death in front of her, she prevented Ruby from ever being a danger to herself in the future. Allison took the mission parameter…"

**DDDDDDD**

"…and did even better," Peter said. He was standing on the second floor walkway of the Dollhouse with Lydia. They were both looking over the edge, watching Allison as she painted a picture in the art station. "She seems to have the ability to think outside of the pieces that we give her and then create."

"Create a new approach to the problem," Lydia finished.

"It's impressive. I don't know what it means, but it's impressive. She really is special," Peter said, almost adoringly, like he was proud.

Lydia looked at him, the disapproval present in her voice, "Special isn't always a good thing here, Peter."

"Dewitt's a businessman. Is he really gonna harm his best active?" Peter made a point.

"Allison wasn't always the best," Lydia corrected him.

"You're talking about Jackson," Peter reasoned.

Lydia lowered her head for a moment, becoming very conscious of her scars at the mention of the man who caused them. She quickly composed herself and looked back up at Peter, "I'm just saying sometimes the best thing to hope for, is good enough."

**DDDDDDD**

**Big Girls Don't Cry (It's Personal) – by Fergie**

**Performed by Ruby Russell**

**Ruby: Da Da Da Da. The smell of your skin lingers on me now. You're probably on your flight back to your home town. I need some shelter of my own protection baby. To be with myself and center. Clarity, peace, serenity.**

**I hope you know, I hope you know. That this has nothing to do with you. It's personal, myself and I. We've got some straightenin' out to do. And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket. But I've got to get a move on with my life. It's time to be a big girl now. And big girls don't cry.**

Ruby was in her dressing room, packing up all her stuff. She knew she needed to get away from all this. She had talked to Nik, and he had been surprisingly more understanding than she expected. He offered her a place if she ever needed it. She stopped to look at herself in the mirror. Finally seeing that piece she was missing.

**Ruby: The path that I'm walking, I must go alone. I must take the baby steps 'til I'm full grown, full grown. Fairytales don't always have a happy ending do they? And I foresee the dark ahead if I stay.**

**I hope you know, I hope you know. That this has nothing to do with you. It's personal, myself and I. We've got some straightenin' out to do. And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket. But I've got to get a move on with my life. It's time to be a big girl now. And big girls don't cry.**

Sara was in her apartment bedroom by herself. She was dancing around like Ethan had told her to do. She unclasped her bra, feeling anxious. She decided to just go for it and pulled it off. She stood there taking in the sight. She had done it. She felt good. She felt free. She stared at her vulnerability and reveled in it.

**Ruby: Like the little school mate in the school yard. We'll play jacks and uno cards. I'll be your best friend and you'll be my Valentine. Yes you can hold my hand if you want to. 'Cause I want to hold yours too. We'll be playmates and lovers and share our secret worlds. But it's time for me to go home. It's getting late and dark outside. I need to be with myself and center. Clarity, peace, serenity. **

Cato had talked to Aiden all night the day he broke down. Something about that moment had helped him understand himself. Now he was with another client. He wasn't the bad boy anymore. He wore a fancy suit, and was having a pleasant conversation. He had talked to Nik about changing his routine. Nik had always understood Cato, and that's why he had always brought him on his travels. But Cato told him that wasn't necessary anymore. He was even kind to Nik, showing him that he was going to be more himself now.

**Ruby: I hope you know, I hope you know. That this has nothing to do with you. It's personal, myself and I. We've got some straightenin' out to do. And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket. But I've got to get a move on with my life. It's time to be a big girl now. And big girls don't cry. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. La Da Da Da Da Da.**

Jason was organizing new dance routines. He had talked to Nik like Danny suggested. He was confident, and Nik was impressed. He let him have more responsibilities. Nik had always seen the potential in Jason. He had consistently tried to push him into being more assertive, but he had always backed down. Nik was happy, but at the same time, he felt terrible.

**DDDDDDD**

The Beacon was closed for the night, and everyone had gone home. Nik stood behind the bar, pouring himself a drink. The past few days had been an ordeal. And he couldn't stop thinking about what Allison had said to him. He heard the door slam shut and looked up to see Derek standing there.

"What are you doing here?" Nik asked, downing the drink.

"Well, a few days ago, an old mate of mine wanted me to come see him at his club."

"When it was open. So we could party. But after everything that just happened, I'm not sure getting what a person wants is the best thing for them anymore."

"Come on Nik, when do we ever get what we want anymore? It's always about the client now. Never ourselves."

"Well maybe that's the smart thing for us to do. Put off our needs so we can salvage our propriety. Our dignity. The only reason I argue with you so much is so I can feel better about what I do here."

"You think I don't do the same thing?"

"No. I know you Derek. You believe in what you're doing. And that's great for you. A couple years ago I might have said the same thing. But now…. The people I tried to put out into the world. I tried to make them shine. But all I did was burn the heart out of them."

"And all we do is burn their memories out."

"Don't try to flip this. To make me feel better. Pretending to hate your job doesn't suit you."

"Nor this for you. How are your performers now?"

"Well better now that…"

"Exactly. They're better. Even Ruby. So why are you being so glum? Ruby is going to move on, and find out what she really wants. And your other dancers? They've shown emotional growth to all our Dolls. They expressed how much they love this place and what you've done for them. They told our Dolls all of this. It's not because they got what they wanted. Do you want to know what helped them?"

"I have a feeling you're going to tell me." Nik said sarcastically.

"It's because they got what they needed. Someone to confide in. To be themselves with. A friend. You see, there's a difference between getting what you want, and getting what you need."

"So what is it that I need?" Nik asked curiously.

"I think you need a night to remember why you love what you do. To remember what it's like to really have fun. To have your mate by your side. I think you lost that in all your travels."

"So is that why you showed up? To play my therapist one more time? For old times sake?"

"Actually no, I came for the open bar," they laughed, the tension immediately lifting. Derek looked up at him with a sly smile. "That is until you started acting like a whiny little…"

Nik cut him off, yelling with laughter in voice, "Oh don't you dare finish that sentence!"

Nik lunged forward, pushing Derek by his shoulders. Derek stumbled back almost falling back into a large armchair. He looked at Nik with a mischievous glare. He tore off his jacket and leapt at Nik. He grabbed his arm, twisting it to the side so he could put him in a headlock. In doing so, they had both ended up closer to the wall. Nik used what little momentum he had to kick his feet of the ground and push off the wall with them as hard as he could. They toppled to the ground, Derek releasing him from his hold. Derek rose to his feet first, but was off balance after taking the brunt of the impact to the floor. Nik got up and charged at him, taking advantage of this to push him into the seat of the large armchair. They had caught each other's hands and struggled, pushing against one another as Nik sat on top of him. As much as Nik hated to admit it, Derek was stronger and he managed to pull Nik's arms out and down to his sides.

Then suddenly they stopped. Nik's body flush against his. The laughter had come to an end as they stared into each other's eyes, their faces only almost touching. Derek let go of Nik's hand to bring it up to Nik's face. Derek brushed his fingers over Nik's incredibly pink and full lips. Nik didn't move at all, his breath becoming shallower as he let Derek feel him.

Derek stopped tracing his lips and clasped Nik's face. Derek looked intently at him. "Klaus," he breathed out.

Nik felt a smirk creep onto his lips. "I haven't heard you call me that in a long time," he replied fondly.

"Well I didn't just come for the free drinks. I do believe my mate promised me a private show with his best dancer, who would come out of retirement just for me," Derek said teasingly.

Nik sat up, finally letting go of Derek's other hand and using it to grab his tie, "Well I think I can arrange that for you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I know the owner. He won't mind," he said nonchalantly, in that oh so charming manner of his.

"Great. Hope onstage… Klaus," Derek emphasized his point by slapping Klaus's ass.

"Oh you're just asking for it now," Nik laughed. He walked over into the D.J. booth and queued up the music.

**One More Night – by Maroon 5**

**You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war. You and I go rough, we keep throwing things and slamming the door. You and I get so damn dysfunctional, we stopped keeping score. You and I get sick, yeah, I know that we can't do this no more.**

Nik danced around the stage, stripping off his shirt. Derek was entranced by the feather tattoos that ran down his shoulder. Nik got down on the floor, and began rocking his hips in a way that Derek didn't even think was physically possible.

**Yeah, but baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you. Yeah, I stopped using my head, using my head, let it all go. Got you stuck on my body, on my body, like a tattoo. And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid, crawling back to you.**

Derek pulled off his tie, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked up to the front of the stage in front of Klaus for a front row view.

**So I cross my heart and I hope to die. That I'll only stay with you one more night. And I know I said it a million times. But I'll only stay with you one more night.**

Klaus smiled and did some kind of backflip onto his feet. He kicked off his shoes, tossing them at Derek with his feet, causing him to duck and laugh. Derek pulled off his own shoes and threw them at the stage, not coming as close to Nik as he wanted.

**Try to tell you "no" but my body keeps on telling you "yes". Try to tell you "stop", but your lipstick got me so out of breath. I'll be waking up in the morning, probably hating myself. And I'll be waking up, feeling satisfied but guilty as hell.**

Nik pulled off his jeans, revealing some incredibly form fitting red underwear. Well they were form fitting now that Klaus had that large growing bulge in them. He leaned back on his hands and knees and humped the air.

**Yeah, but baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you. Yeah, I stopped using my head, using my head, let it all go. Got you stuck on my body, on my body, like a tattoo. And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid, crawling back to you.**

Derek stood up to take off his pants. Nik took advantage of this and crawled over to him, capturing Derek in a long hot kiss. Klaus pulled away, leaving Derek to lean forward. That little fucking tease.

**So I cross my heart and I hope to die. That I'll only stay with you one more night. And I know I said it a million times. But I'll only stay with you one more night. Yeah, baby, give me one more night. Yeah, baby, give me one more night (whoa, yeah). Yeah, baby, give me one more night (oh, yeah, yeah).**

Derek got up onto the stage, following him. Derek grabbed him and pulled him into himself. Derek traced his hand over Klaus's feather tattoos, letting Klaus shudder under the smooth ministrations of his hands. Klaus grabbed Derek's ass hard, pulling him out of his daze. Derek looked up at him and smiled.

**Yeah, but baby there you go again, there you go again making me love you. Yeah, I stopped using my head, using my head, let it all go. Got you stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.**

They had fallen into a heavy makeout session. Derek fell back, letting Klaus have control. Klaus pulled at his own underwear, slipping them off. Derek could feel him press into his thigh. He reached down to take off his own underwear, but Klaus pulled his hands away. Klaus leaned down, grabbing the waistband of Derek's underwear with his teeth and pulled them down as far as he could get them.

**So I cross my heart and I hope to die (Oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh). That I'll only stay with you one more night (Oh oh oh oh oh oh). And I know I said it a million times (Oh, I said it a million times). But I'll only stay with you one more night (Yeah, baby give me one more night). So I cross my heart and I hope to die (yeah, yeah). That I'll only stay with you one more night (yeah, yeah). And I know I said it a million times (yeah, yeah). But I'll only stay with you one more night (yeah, yeah).**

They embraced each other. It wasn't exactly the start of a new relationship. In this moment they were just giving each other something they needed. So much had happened the past few days. This was a good way to remind each other of who they used to be. And it was a really fun way. Derek knew Klaus wouldn't stay around for much longer. His business took him away constantly. But for this one moment. For this one night. They had each other.

**AN: **I may have bit off more than I could chew, and as result lost some of the development in with the characters. So if there are any questions about the characters or their motivation, you can message me on my tumblr page.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. This one took a lot out of me. Reviews are love! Let me know your thoughts on this chapter.


	5. Episode 5: Blind Faith

**AN: Okay so I'm having some internet troubles as of late, so the chapter updates may be a little erratic, but i will keep updating. I refuse to be one of those incomplete stories. It would just drive me crazy. Until then, I hope you enjoy this chapter. This one isn't my personal favorite because I couldn't ge it to flow properly, but it is my hope that you will find something enjoyable about it.**

**As always I own nothing. This is just for my own amusement, and apparently the people who actually who find my story interesting. Enjoy!**

**Episode 5: Blind Faith**

"Agent Ballard, you were assigned to case designated Dollhouse several months ago. How would you describe your progress to date?" asked the head agent.

Scott had been called into a conference meeting after being granted some time to recover from his gunshot wound. He was still injured, but was fit enough to come into the office. Two senior agents and Agent McCall, who was most likely the one who suggested this, were seated at a long table in front of him. Scott sat in a single seat in front of the table, like a child being scolded.

"Slow," he answered sarcastically.

"I'm actually very impressed with what I see here," the agent said mockingly, "You've physically threatened a senator, disrupted a seven year human trafficking investigation, been arrested for trespassing on Prince Amoudi's yacht. The only legal action you've successfully followed through on is your divorce!"

"Let me ask you Scott. After all this, do you still think the Dollhouse exists?" Rafael asked. It was almost like he was taunting him at this point. God he could be such an ass.

"I know it does," Scott said confidently.

"You've seen it then? You could take us on a tour?" the second agent asked rhetorically.

"Look we all know this assignment is a joke," the head agent cut in.

"If it's a joke then pull me off it," Scott demanded. There was a brief hush of over the table. For some reason then didn't bother to reply, confirming Scott's suspicions, "Except you can't, because someone bigger than you thinks it isn't a joke."

"Okay, let's say I'm a billionaire. I can hire anybody for anything, and I'm gonna go to an illegal organization and have them build me, what, the perfect date?" Rafael started. He was trying to prove a point, "Confessor, assassin, dominatrix, omelet chef? I'm paying a million dollars for that? I can get that. I have everything I want!"

"Nobody has everything they want. It's a survival pattern," Scott was defiant. He had come across too many obstacles not to believe that something was working against him. "You get what you want, you want something else. If you have everything you want, you want something else. Something more extreme. Something more specific. Something perfect."

"Put it like that, it doesn't sound so bad," said the second agent, a hint if amusement present in his voice.

"The only way to imprint a human being with a new personality…" Scott started.

"Which we've yet to prove possible!" Rafael interrupted.

"…is to remove their own," Scott continued without hesitation. "Completely. We're talking about people walking around who may as well have been murdered, which to me sounds pretty bad."

"Is that why you interfered with the Russians? The Borodin case?" the head agent asked accusingly.

Scott began to explain his motives, "They're the top of the heap in human trafficking. If people are disappearing..."

"That is an ongoing investigation!" Rafael chimed in again. Scott was surprised that their superiors were letting Rafael act in such an unprofessional manner. No blood on their hands he supposed. "We have a chance to dry up a major pipeline of girls being smuggled into this country, and you go out and jeopardize that for a fairy tale! You will stay out of everyone's way, and you will stop pissing off powerful public figures without any evidence!"

The head agent was much calmer, but more resilient when he spoke, "You've been out of line Scott. You have to back off. You need to keep away from the Borodin case. Do you understand? Are you able to back off?"

Scott nodded his head in agreement, hating the look of satisfaction on Rafael's face, "That won't be a problem sir."

**DDDDDDD**

Allison was sitting at one of the lunch tables inside the Dollhouse. She saw Erica walking around carrying her lunch tray, seeming lost.

"Good day," Allison called out to her as she passed by.

Erica stopped and smiled in response, setting her tray down across from her, "I wasn't certain where to sit."

"I swam 30 laps today," Allison said, a piece of salad still stuck on her fork as she held it.

"Good for you," Erica replied simply as she started to eat.

"I'm tired now," Allison said, beginning to look distressed.

"It's important to exercise," Erica replied, "I try to be my best."

Allison looked at her, still troubled. She felt like there was something more here that she didn't understand. "Are you?"

"Excuse me?" Erica asked.

"Are you your best?" Allison said again, waiting to see what she would say.

Erica was puzzled. This wasn't something she was normally asked. "I'm not sure how to know that."

"I think if you always try, that's best." Allison told her. She looked to her left to Isaac, who had been silently eating lunch, "Right?"

"Every day is a chance to be better," Isaac said plainly, proceeding to stuff a piece of lettuce into his mouth.

Peter and Stiles stood at the large window from Stiles' sitting area while they watched the three Dolls interact. They were completely unaware of the unusual behavior that Allison was demonstrating. Asking questions she wasn't supposed to, the others responding to her in new ways that was not consistent with the Dollhouse standards. Instead, Stiles was much more interested in something else about the group.

"They're eating lunch," Peter said flatly, not really understanding what Stiles was so excited about.

"They're eating lunch together, man friend. Same three. Even the same table," Stiles smiled, entertained by their development, "They're grouping."

"He's been talking about this since breakfast," Cora called down to Peter from the desk.

"Yeah, and I recall getting waffles instead of pancakes this morning," Stiles criticized her. It was a simple breakfast order after all.

"You want it done right, get it yourself," Cora glared at him.

"Then what is the point of having an assistant if I can't enjoy the perks?"

"I'm not a slave Stiles. We have over fifty people here you can program to do that." She couldn't help but wonder, of all the opportunities she was offered, how she got stuck with the one genius that still acted like a five year old.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "And that is exactly why you are only an assistant, because that is against the rules." Why couldn't she just accept his process? There was a point to it. It may have been hard to describe, but there was one. He was sure of it. Plus he had already tried programming the Dolls to get him food. Derek wasn't pleased.

Cora rolled her eyes in response, "When do you ever follow the rules? And besides, I'm still only an assistant because you barely teach me anything." If anything she was getting dumber while she waited on Stiles hand and foot. If he wasn't so brilliant, he would never have anything to bribe her with. Or maybe it was blackmail at this point.

Peter cut in before their banter got anymore unbearable. He wasn't too fond of their constant bickering, "Stiles!... Allison, Isaac, Erica. Are you saying they remember each other?" Peter asked curiously. A development of this kind could cause serious trouble. Who knows what Derek would have to say about it.

"No, no, no, no. The wipes are clean. This goes deeper than memory, into instinctual survival patterns. Flocking. Whole mess of sparrows turning on a dime. Salmon trucking upstream. This isn't a book club, man friend. This is the herd," Stiles smiled, regaining the excitement he felt about the situation.

"They're not bison, Stiles," Peter told him. Stiles was talking like they Dolls were a lab experiment he couldn't wait to work on.

Stiles looked at them again gathered around the table, "They're a little bit bison," he insisted. It was like trying to teach morals to a child. For an expert on the mind and what people are capable of, he seemed a little ignorant about how to properly connect with them on a humane level. Chances are he was too used to interacting with the creations of his own mind. How could he ever consider them people? Maybe it was only natural for Stiles to think of them as a different species.

"Well, they didn't used to be," Peter replied, walking up the stairs. That was maybe the one thing he didn't care for about Stiles. His inability to understand people. Real people.

"They volunteered for this," Stiles rationalized, his excitement dampening under Peter's scrutiny.

"So we're told."

**DDDDDDD**

In a desolate area in Tucson, Arizona, a small school bus parked outside a small town convenience store. A group of religious followers walked off the bus and into the store. They hummed some kind of spiritual hymn as they walked inside, all of them smiling pleasantly. They were dressed in simple clothes, the woman in light colored dresses, and the men in black slacks and white shirts with suspenders.

The local townspeople became uneasy in their presence and walked out of the store, keeping their distance. They had heard rumors of these people, and were more than anxious to get away. A mechanic heard the singing from across the street, and looked at the crowd in the store with disgust. He grabbed a wrench from his toolbox and walked across the street and into the store to confront them. The followers were busy grabbing materials and bringing them to the front register.

The mechanic purposely bumped into the man at the front register at the register, knocking over some of his merchandise, "Excuse you. Are you gonna pick that up?" The mechanic asked spitefully. The man continued humming, ignoring the mechanic. "I'm talking to you! What, are you deaf? Or you just tone deaf?"

"Jesse, not in my shop please," the store owner pleaded.

"Not in your shop? They wouldn't be in your shop if you refused to serve them. You know what they're doing up there on that compound," Jesse yelled at him.

"No, I don't. Neither do you," the owner tried to calm him. Jesse was known to have a temper, and he was scared to think of what might transpire if he got out of control.

"You just don't want to know," Jesse spat. He grabbed the rope and duct tape from their basket, trying to get them man to talk to him, "Hey, what do you need this for, huh? Or this? Look at me! Look at me when I talk to you!"

Jesse grabbed him and shook him, throwing him into a rotating stand of merchandise. Jesse held up his wrench, ready to start fighting them all. The religious followers gathered around the fallen man, helping him up as the store owner yelled, "All right, all right, enough! Get out of my store, Jesse."

"Trouble?" A local sheriff had wandered in, only witnessing part of the commotion. He was aware of the stigma following these people. Whenever their bus drove into town he tried to be present to prevent situations like the one they were currently in.

"No. No trouble," Jesse claimed, trying to act like an innocent bystander. He stuffed his wrench into his back pocket and walked past the officer out of the store.

The religious man paid for the supplies and left, the others following closely behind as they got back onto their bus. The sheriff watched as they began humming again, "It's weird, isn't it?"

"Their money spends just fine," the store owner said, "It's not so much the singing as it is the smiling. What do you figure that's all about?"

"Maybe they're just happy, Phil," the sheriff suggested.

"Yeah, maybe," Phil replied. He saw the abandoned shopping list from the followers left on the counter. He grabbed it to throw it away, but he saw something written in black marker that faded through the list from the back. He turned it over to read it. It had a brief message scrawled into the back. Phil looked at it in surprise. He held it up, showing the sheriff what it said. It was a cry for help. **Save Me.**

**DDDDDDD**

"Happy? No, this is something quite apart from happiness," an older man stood in Derek's office, informing him of the situation taking place in Arizona. Derek didn't bother to stand, "Call it a kind of bliss, an unquestioning serenity. True happiness requires some measure of self awareness. We're talking about people here who have their very wills taken away."

"Imagine such a thing," Derek said sarcastically from his chair. He was more than familiar with these same judgments being directed against him and his house.

"The irony of bringing this to you, Derek, is not lost on me, I promise you," the man said with a dissatisfied look on his face.

"It's not the irony that concerns me," Derek told him, "You're asking me to place a Doll with a federal agency."

"Indirectly, yes."

"I don't wish to be vulgar, but one of the many benefits of having you as a client is that you help us avoid entanglements with federal agencies, Senator Boxbaum," Derek said pointedly.

"It's the ATF. Besides, your Doll won't be working with the government. One of your security guys would liaise. Your Doll would be perfectly safe," he assured him.

"In a fanatical religious cult?" Derek questioned doubtfully.

"Derek, this is an election year. I got the family value voters on the right, the women's issues constituency on the left, all coming after me. The ATF is convinced there is something going on behind those compound walls, and I can't afford that. Now, we have a very narrow window on this warrant. If the government sends in some wet-behind-the-ears Quantico undercover graduate, these people are gonna know about it. I need the real thing. I need a true believer."

Derek mulled over the idea of what he was asking. This engagement was definely high risk despite what the senator claimed. Even the medical procedure the Doll would have to undergo was dangerous in it's own right. Not to mention the Doll would need adaptability in case the situation turned sour. He was definitely going to need to send an Alpha, if any Doll at all. The real question was, did Derek even have a choice in this matter?

**DDDDDDD**

"I can't help you," Bonnie said. Scott followed her through the halls of the bureau, carrying a file with his information about the Dollhouse and the photo of Crystal.

"You're the only one who can," Scott insisted. After being let out of his meeting, Scott decided on a different approach that was less likely to get him noticed. Bonnie was in charge of missing person databases and facial recognition software. If there was any information in the bureau, she could find it.

"Aren't you supposed to be shot?" the young woman asked. She had short black hair, and a dark complexion. She was dressed in a woman's formal business suit and black high heels. She seemed pleasant at first glance, but had a much rougher personality than people expected. And she tended to be a little strict about granting favors.

"I lived," Scott said.

"I see that. Shouldn't you be recuperating?" she asked, trying to get Scott to leave. His work ethic lately hadn't exactly been healthy. She didn't feel like associating herself with that.

"Come on, Bonnie. You scan the face, you look for a match. Computer does all the work," he pleaded.

"Have Carter run it through NCIC," she said, trying to pawn him off.

"I already did that," Scott said as if it was the obvious choice of action. Of course he didn't. Going to Carter would have just been a waste of time. Especially when Bonnie had better clearance.

"And you didn't get a match?"

"Nothing," he lied

"Well, I don't know what you expect me to do."

"We both know your clearance rating opens up databases Carter can only dream about."

Bonnie stopped him outside her office, turning to look at him "Then you know that I've got plenty of faces to scan. And for people much more impressive than you."

"But not as charming," Scott smiled, leaning against the door.

Bonnie quirked her eyebrow at his lousy attempt of swaying her, "Was that flirting?"

Scott's smile fell, "I think so," he said awkwardly, "I think it works better on suspects…. Did I mention I was shot?" Scott grabbed his side, feigning a pained look.

Bonnie stared at him. He was a bit of a hassle, but she had to admit she was curious about…. Whatever. It didn't matter. He would probably bother her all day if she didn't help him anyway. That alone was motivation enough. Bonnie snatched the file out of his hand, and walked into her office. Scott smiled and followed her in.

**DDDDDDD**

"I don't like it," Chris disagreed.

"Good, it's your job not to like it, Mr. Dominic, but Senator Boxbaum is more than just a valued client. He's a well-placed asset. Denying his request would have a steeper downside than compliance," Derek told him. He wasn't too thrilled about the situation either, but he had to make a call. And helping the Senator was really the only call he could make.

"It's not the job. I'm confident Langton can handle the ATF. It's Allison. Her field response has been wildly erratic lately," Chris commented.

"She's demonstrated a talent for adaptability, which is precisely what is required in this instance," Derek defended his choice. After the incident with Ruby and Nik some time ago, she had proven that she could be more than what they expected. It was no wonder she was an Alpha.

"They shouldn't be adaptable," Chris argued. He had an angry, but composed look on his face, "They should be predictable. If Jackson didn't teach us that much." Not many people knew, but he had felt like a failure after the Jackson incident. He had signs of adaptability and recognition that the house had began to notice. But Chris had let it spiral until Jackson had become an Omega, a defective Doll that was destined to be sent to the Nemeton. But of course, that had to go wrong too, creating the Kanima they all now feared.

"You don't like Allison, do you Mr. Dominic?" Derek smirked at Chris's continued disapproval over the recent events in the house. It was almost starting to become amusing. He took things so personally.

"It's not that I don't like her. It's that sometimes I worry you do," Chris said honestly.

"Your objections have been noted. Thank you, Mr. Dominic," Derek dismissed him. Chris left the office, still upset at Derek's indifference to such a serious threat. Derek was blind to everything going on around him lately. If this trend continued, Chris was going to have to start taking control of these matters himself, lest Derek let the integrity of the Dollhouse be compromised.

**DDDDDDD**

"Hello, Allison," Derek greeted. He had walked down into Dr. Martin's office to check on the status of the mission. Allison was sitting quitely on the table, while Stiles and Lydia were at the computer reviewing the technology.

"Hello. I had an exam," Allison smiled simply.

"That's good. Would you like to have some lunch now?" Derek asked.

"I would," Allison rose to her feet and went to leave.

Lydia looked up at him, "She shouldn't eat. Not before the surgery."

Derek turned around and called out for Allison before she made it out the door, "Allison, why don't you go have a massage?"

"A massage would be relaxing," Allison left, following the new suggestion given to her.

"If she were any more relaxed, she'd be ooze," Stiles said sarcastically, reviewing the device. It was rather small and intricate. Stiles could probably do better, but they didn't have the time for that.

"So, it's doable?" Derek assumed.

Lydia rose to her feet to address him properly, "It's experimental, and highly invasive."

"But doable?" Derek wanted to know. He wasn't overly fond of Lydia's tendency to withhold information at the expense of what was required. There were protocols, but she might have had a tendency to follow them too closely.

Stiles sighed, "The actual procedure isn't much more complicated than laser eye correction. It ain't brain surgery," he said with a bit of an attitude. Spending the morning with Lydia had made him a little cranky. Or maybe it was because he hadn't eaten yet. After the breakfast incident the other day, Cora was refusing to fetch his meals.

"Actually, it is brain surgery," Lydia corrected him. "We're going to be turning Allison into a human camera, and in order to do that, she's going to have to be made blind."

"Not permanently." Stiles quickly told him, "In theory."

"So, this is it?" Derek walked over to Stiles. He leaned over his shoulder to look at the device. The image from it was currently being displayed on the computer screen.

"Yes, uh, the latest in CSEVP," Stiles stuttered. Derek really needed to learn about personal space. Then again, Stiles did have really unusual standards of personal space. "Cortical Stimulation for Evocation of Visual Perception,"

"Brain camera for the blind," Lydia said simply. Why couldn't he just talk like a normal person?

"Or that."

Derek looked at the image of him and Stiles on the screen reflected through the camera, "And this is what she'll be seeing?"

"Well, this is what the FEDS will be seeing, only less clear once we get it inside of Allison. We'll be using her eyes as lenses. The images will bypass her own cortex and be broadcast directly back to the ATF. Allison herself will see no evil," Stiles told him.

Lydia, however, wasn't as confident in the operation, "There have been instances of this technology causing aneurysms and, in one case, death. It's possible one good sneeze could bring on a seizure," she warned.

"Or even worse, a sneezure," Stiles snickered.

Derek rose to address Lydia, both of them ignoring Stiles' idiotic pun, "The risks have been determined to be within acceptable margins. How soon can she be ready?"

Lydia glanced at him with disdain, but she was in no place to refuse his orders. She quickly checked the results, "I'll need 24 hours."

"Good. Clock starts now," Derek smiled and left them alone.

**DDDDDDD**

The ATF Strike team was stationed in a small camp set up not too far from the religious compound. The leader of the operation was Agent Melinda May. She had a frightening presence, and was highly skilled in these operations. However, her personal stake in this mission had prevented her from putting a stop to this religious cult until now.

"This is our target." Agent May started. The strike team was gathered in the tent for the briefing. Peter sat on the sidelines, waiting to see how much she knew. She brought up a picture of a middle aged man on a projector screen. He had scruffy black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a face devoid of emotion, "Calls himself Castiel Collins. Real name, Misha Allan. Spent three years in federal prisons. Last time he was inside, Collins claimed a conversion experience. Upon release, he joined up with the Zion Ranch, and formed a splinter group. They grew in number and set up shop here."

"What kind of shop?" one of the agents asked.

"Given Collin's history, it could be anything from gun running to human trafficking. One thing I can promise you, he is not up at that ranch putting hay in a manger. Our problem has been we haven't been able to show cause for a warrant. Until now. Collins never leaves the compound himself. But once a month, he sends some minions into town to buy supplies. They go in groups to watch each other. Well, someone wasn't watching closely enough because one of the faithful managed to scribble this on the back of a shopping list." She brought up the photo of the list on the screen. "**Save me**. These two words have opened a crack in the door. A judge has agreed to let us do a sneak-and-peek. We have 48 hours to show cause for further action. Then the door shuts again."

"How are we supposed to gain their confidence to get inside?"

"I'd like you all to meet Peter Langton," Agent May introduced him as he walked up to the front, "Private contractor recommended to us by Senator Boxbaum. He's been vetted at the highest level. I'll let him tell you what he does."

At the same time he began his speech, Allison was in the Dollhouse as Lydia and the other doctors on staff began to get her ready for the procedure. "Hi, so, what I do is I work with an extraordinary young woman. She's not a law enforcement officer. She's not an undercover agent. She's just a girl. And she's going to help us," Lydia took one of the surgical needles while Allison's eyes were being held open by a small surgical clamp, "Her name is Esther Carpenter, and she knows these people. She knows them like she knows herself."

"Did she escape from a cult?" another agent asked.

"No. She didn't escape from anything. Esther's talent is not in getting out, but getting in. And because of this talent, because of who she is, that is what she will do. She will not arrive there a stranger or an intruder. She will walk through the gates of that compound, and she will be accepted as one of them." Stiles was at the computer in his office, programming a 3 dimensional image of Castiel to add to Allison's imprint.

"How?"

"Through a miracle," Peter smiled.

**DDDDDDD**

"I can feel the sun. We're headed south now," Allison sat in the passenger seat of the car as Peter drove her to the compound. To her he was just a stranger, helping her along her way. Her appearance was a little more frazzled than usual, adding to the image that she really was blind. "I really want to thank you for going out of your way."

"It's not as far out of my way as you might think," Peter told her, "I admire your courage. Hitchhiking across country."

"Because I'm blind?" Allison assumed.

"Nah, 'cause you're a girl," Peter said casually.

"I'm a girl? Wow, I've been blind longer than I thought," Allison joked, Peter smiled, holding back his laughter, "Do I hear a smile?"

"You do. So, you weren't always blind?" Peter asked her. He was occasionally curious about the backstory she was imprinted with. Usually on the drive back to the Dollhouse in the van, she mostly just talked about her time with the client. Never about herself.

"No, the Lord saw fit to take my vision when I was nine."

"The Lord, huh? And you don't blame him?"

"Blame him? No, I praise Him. Saul of Tarsus made it all the way to Damascus after he was struck blind, and he became a new person."

"You want to become a new person?" Peter questioned.

"More than anything. Are we here?" She asked as she felt the car slowing down to a stop.

"I think so. There's a gate. It looks like it's open. I could walk you there," Peter offered.

"No, thank you. I made it this far. Is the path close?"

"Open the door, you'll step right on it."

"Thank you. And God bless you." Allison stepped out onto the path. Peter drove off towards the ATF camp, leaving her to fend for herself.

Allison used her walking cane, hitting it against the gate with every swing to make sure she was following the right way. The followers inside the compound heard the knocking against the fence and gathered at the center, watching as this young woman came closer to them. It was such a strange phenomenon; they weren't sure what to think.

"Hello?... Hello?" Allison walked into the camp as people started to surround her, but refusing to go near her. "Please I know you're there," She slowly walked forward until she ran into Castiel, who had been standing directly in her path. She reached her hand out slowly. He let her reach out and touch his face. She rubbed her hand down his cheek, and then over his nose and his eyes, a look of recognition washing over face, "Castiel Collins. I'd know your face anywhere."

**DDDDDDD**

Bonnie walked up to Scott's desk with the results. He was on the phone talking to someone in a hushed tone. She held back a moment to listen in. She didn't normally snoop, but Ballard had a reputation around the office.

"You broke in? Okay. So then here's what I want you to do. Bring the drugs to this address." Scot said. He read off an address he had written down, catching Bonnie way off guard. This sounded a lot more sordid than she'd expected. "I'll see you then."

Scott turned to see Bonnie standing there with judgment in her eyes, "something you want to tell me?"

"That was my neighbor," he quickly explained, "I forgot my pain medication at home. She's gonna run it down here for me. Please tell me we've made some progress?"

"Sorry," she handed him back the Dollhouse file, "I tried every biometric I know. Your Crystal doesn't exist. I'll leave it active and in the system, at least for now. If I get any hits off the face recog, I'll let you know."

Scott sighed in defeat. Was this really another dead end?... No…. It couldn't be. There had to be another angle. Somewhere.

**DDDDDDD**

"Esther Louise Carpenter. From Raymond, New Hampshire," Castiel read the license in her wallet as everyone still stood in the middle of the compound, fascinated by the arrival of this young woman. "A blind hitchhiker. And you got all the way here by yourself?"

"I was led by God."

"And was that God in the car that dropped you off?" he asked skeptically.

"Just one of his instruments," she smiled at his reluctance.

"Who told you about this place, Esther Louise Carpenter?"

"You did," she claimed.

"I've never seen you before," he was getting anxious around this mysterious woman.

"But I've seen you. You appeared to me in a vision. You spoke to me. You said a place had been prepared for me. You told me to walk out my door, and to not be afraid. You said,"Come to your brothers and sisters at the Temple." You said I would be carried here, as if on the wind." She reached her hand out again, cupping his cheek. He brought his hand up to rest it over hers, "And then you took my hand, and you held it to your face so that I would know it."

The crowd started murmuring excitedly, spouting out religious praises to this new miracle.

"Amen."

"Praise be to God."

Peter and the other agents watched the camera inside Allison's eyes from the laptop in the camp. They couldn't hear anything, but they could see the followers becoming excited and joyous. They guided her into their main hall so that they could learn more about her.

"They're taking her inside," said Agent May, rather impressed at her talents.

"As advertised," Peter said smugly.

**DDDDDDD**

"So she can register faces by touch?" Cora asked. She was a little puzzled by the situation after Stiles told her how he imprinted Castiel's face into Allison's mind.

"Of course she can, she's blind!" Stiles said.

"But she hasn't always been blind. Recognizing that stuff takes lots of time and practice," Cora insisted. She had rarely questioned the adaptability of the Dolls to utilize skills imprinted in them, but this was different. Recognizing things by touch and smell took physical conditioning. Not memories of training sessions that could teach them how to break into a vault or kill someone.

"Are you unfamiliar with what we do here?" Stiles asked sarcastically. Maybe he really did need to start teaching her more about the imprint process.

"It's not like the other stuff Stiles. We can imprint the memories of training and experience that allow them to imitate the movements. But being blind requires actual experience."

"Actually, not really," Stiles smirked, "The imprint applies to the physical body as well. It's partly why the Dolls feel so much pain during the imprint process," he said the last part a little off-handily. People didn't like to think about the pain the Dolls went through during an imprint. It would just make them feel bad knowing that every time they were sent out, they were convulsing in that chair. Stiles felt a little guilty because he didn't feel bad. In his mind it was just the scientific process of the nerves communicating with each other and reconstructing themselves. Besides, the Dolls themselves never remembered the pain anyway.

"Okay, well then would care to explain how it applies to the body?"

"Alright, your next lesson," he ushered her over to the computer monitors. He pulled up Allison's biolinks from the engagement next to her normal brain wave patterns, pointing out the differences in her neural responses, "Basically, the imprint process applies to not only their mind, but to the nervous system and receptors controlled by the brain. In other words, the imprint can also affect muscle memory. I give someone the memory that they can tango, their body compensates, believing that they actually went through all the practice necessary to learn how to Tango. Look at this, her normal sense responses are highlighted orange here, but her imprint has increased sensory recognition."

"Stiles this is really something I should have learned right away," she scolded him. But, at least he was actually teaching her something. Granted she had to take matters into her own hands on occasion. She even knew how to operate the chair, but she wasn't going to let Stiles know that. He would probably throw a fit, "Okay, so if that's true, then that means Allison's senses have been heightened as if she's been blind for years?"

"Exactly. Not only can I change her memories, but I can change the way her brain interprets signals from the rest of her body. In other words, Allison is now the perfect blind woman."

**DDDDDDD**

"I'm Misty, and I'm so glad to know you," A young woman rushed over to Allison as she stood inside the building. She had curly blonde hair, and wore a shawl draped around her shoulders. Others were quickly gathering around her, fascinated by her miraculous story.

"Hello Misty," Allison said pleasantly.

"You have to be thirsty. I brought you some water," Misty reached out and placed the cup in her hands.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome sister."

"Sister? I never had a sister," Allison smiled, feeling the warmth of the name.

"Now you have many. And brothers too," Misty smiled. The others gathered around, making her feel very welcome and joyful.

Castiel stood back next to his right hand man Elijah. Elijah was fairly young, his long brown hair parted so it rested on his forehead. He wore a small gold cross around his neck, and had a faint stubble. He stared at the group gathered around Allison fondly, "We shall make a new garden, and fresh buds will flower there. It's happening. It's happening just as you said."

"If she is what she says she is," Castiel told him.

"What else could she be?" Elijah asked.

"Brother Elijah, I've told you how we must protect this garden. There are those who would seek to destroy it. You know that."

Elijah's expression became serious, praying to God that such a miraculous incident wasn't fake. "Yes."

"We are commanded to test all of the signs. If a serpent should enter, we must crush it underneath our heel. You understand that?"

"Yes, Castiel," Elijah said. He didn't like thinking back to all their other hardships.

"We must keep the garden pure," Castiel said, gazing at her intensely.

**DDDDDDD**

Isaac walked into the shower hall after his daily exercise. He removed his towel and walked through the opening in the large round divider separating the showers from the rest of the bathroom floor. He stepped under one of the showerheads, causing it to automatically turn on. Erica walked in behind him, taking the showerhead right next to him. "Hello," she greeted politely.

"Good day," Isaac replied, letting the water wash down his back.

Erica slowly stepped into the spray of water, reaching her hands out under it first. "The water is warm. It feels nice," she told him.

"Yes, it does. It feels…" Isaac felt a kind of pressure. A kind of good pressure. He looked down to find the source, "…nice," he finished. He wasn't really sure what his body was doing, but it felt very good.

Stiles was in his office, negotiating on the headset with a buyer for new parts. The monitors on his desk were randomly rotating through the live security footage.

"….For my money, the Valsalva mechanism is really the way," Stiles leaned over the desk and glanced at the screens, seeing Isaac…. Seeing Isaac have a physical reaction that he wasn't supposed to be having, "w-way to go. Hey…. I-I got to go. Something… came up."

Stiles took off his headset and rushed out and down the stairs. He ran into Lydia's office, and came to a sudden halt. She was sitting at her desk, and looked at him questioningly as he just stood there.

"Doctor?" Stiles began to ask.

"Stiles," Lydia replied, misinterpreting his question as some kind of awkward greeting.

"Hello," he said, returning her greeting.

"Hello," she said. Had he finally lost it?

"So, listen. Here's the thing. I was looking. Glancing! I noticed… Isaac," Stiles told her.

"You noticed Isaac?" So he did have a reason for being here. He just wasn't being very useful.

"In the shower, and he's naked," Stiles laughed timidly, trying to alleviate some of the tension and embarrassment from the situation.

"Victor's naked in the shower?" she concluded, realizing how stupid that observation was. Did he enjoy wasting her time?

"Right!" Stiles pointed at her, "Anyway, he seemed to be having a kind of….man reaction."

"A what?" Lydia asked perplexed by his weird lingo.

Stiles sighed, trying to find the words. "Uh, you know, reaction that a man person might have in the you know, the naked part... Shower!.. Isaac!"

"Isaac had an erection?" she realized.

"I prefer man reaction." Stiles told her.

"Why?" she asked of the ridiculous term. He could be incredibly odd sometimes.

Stiles assumed she was referring to the incident. "This is a problem. This can't happen. It shouldn't happen. When they're in their Doll state, there's a certain… limpness," he gestured with his hands, immediately regretting the action.

Lydia got out of her seat, realizing this situation was a little more serious than she thought, "Well, I warned about something like this."

"When?" Stiles asked bewildered.

"His last engagement was with Mr. Lonely Hearts," she almost yelled at him like it was obvious.

"So? That shouldn't matter. I mean, okay, it was a romantic engagement, but he was wiped."

"This is the fifth time he's had that exact imprint. I've cautioned against repeated imprints in the same Dolls, haven't I?" Lydia lectured him.

"I don't know. Did you put it in one of those reports?" Stiles asked.

"Of course."

"Okay. Well, like I said, nobody reads those," Stiles smiled pleasantly.

"How many times has this happened?" Lydia asked.

"I don't know. I… wasn't looking for it," Stiles got uncomfortable trying not to think of Isaac's hard…. Nope! He wasn't thinking about it!

"Well, now you're gonna have to," she told him. "Let's start with the last three months of shower tapes."

"You mean we're actually gonna sit down and look for the…" Stiles looked at her, with a strained look on his face.

"Man reactions," she finished for him.

Lydia walked over to the monitors in her office so she could start bringing up the footage. Stiles sighed. He wasn't going to get anytime to work on his projects. He was going to have to tell Cora to hold down the fort in his office, because there was no way Lydia was going to let him out of this one.

**DDDDDDD**

Misty guided Allison down the line of their brothers and sisters so she could feel their faces and become acquainted with them. "This is Sister Emma…. Sister Annabelle."

"Hello," Allison smiled.

"Oh, this is Brother Rory," Allison reached up to feel the face of the tall young man. He was thin and had reddish-brown hair, a little bit of stubble growing out on his face.

"Hello, Rory. It's a pleasure to meet you. And what a handsome face."

"Thank you," Rory blushed.

"Rory was with us at the Zion Ranch back in Texas," Misty told her.

"You were unhappy there," Allison said, feeling the tension in his face.

"Things happened there that should not have happened," Rory said somberly.

"Castiel led us out of that place," Misty assured her, trying to brighten the mood.

"He saved us," Rory said.

Elijah approached them, cutting off their conversation, "Esther, Castiel would like to see you."

**DDDDDDD**

The ATF agents inside the camp were printing out shots of the inside of the facility and the other followers that Allison was seeing with her eyes.

Agent May took one of the woman's pictures and pinned it on a board with the rest of them, "Another female, approximately 29 years of age. Let's tag her femme eight. Could be Andrea Parker from Florence, Texas."

"You have some names?" Peter asked.

"Few. Been watching these people a long time."

"Any idea who our cry for help came from? Be nice to know who our ally on the inside is."

"Yeah, it would be, but we can't presume any allies," she brushed him off.

"Damn it!" yelled the woman at the computer.

May and Peter walked over to her, the computer screen pitch black, "What happened? We lose our signal?"

"The signal's still there. I'm just not getting…" suddenly a light flashed in front of the camera, "What the hell?"

Inside the compound, Elijah and Castiel were alone with Allison in the basement. She sat on a chair, the only light coming from a flashlight in Castiel's hand that he was waving in front of her face. He was testing her eyes, checking to see if there was a physical response from the light.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, Esther, and I want you to be truthful with me, okay?" he said calmly, trying not to reveal his intentions.

"Of course," she agreed. Her pupils did not dilate, nor did they water in response to the light.

"You work for the government?"

"What?"

"The federal government, did they send you here?" he asked again.

"No. Of course not," why would he assume that she was working with some government?

"And you're not with law enforcement of any kind?"

"No."

Castiel turned on the light in the basement, convinced that she was indeed blind, but still unsure of her purpose here, "I want to believe you, Esther. I want to believe everything you say. It's a beautiful story. But the serpent also had a beautiful story, and the woman was deceived, and the man was corrupted, and they were forced to leave the garden."

"I don't understand," Allison said concerned.

"I do not come into this garden a pure being, Esther. I come into it the way Adam left. Broken. Corrupted. Impure. But those whom I shelter, they are not corrupted. They have not walked in the world the way I have. They have not seen the things that I have seen. And against this world, they are defenseless. So I will protect them. And any who seek to harm them," Castiel pulled out a handgun and pointed it at her face. She was unaware it was there, but everyone in the ATF camp could see it, and were instantly terrified that she was going to be killed.

"Rory told me that you saved them. All who are here are blessed," Allison told him, her faith unwavering. He gazed at her intently. There was no recognition of what was going on around her. Only faith and hope. Her belief was genuine. As he stared into her eyes, he saw nothing there. And that was proof enough.

Castiel put the gun down and placed his hand on her shoulder, "Welcome to the Temple. Esther. She who was born for a time such as this." He put the gun down and left Allison with Elijah.

"Welcome," Elijah told her.

"He is a great man," Allison told him.

"Yes," Elijah agreed. Allison looked over to him at the sound of his voice. Unknown to her, there was a rack of guns against the wall of the basement floor. The room was generally sealed off, so that the followers could not find them. Only Elijah and Castiel knew about their cache of weapons.

"You getting this?" Agent May asked, seeing all the weapons laid out before them. This is just what they needed to see. These images were going to help her capture Castiel.

"Oh, yeah I'm getting it. That's an arsenal," Peter looked over at her, concerned for Allison more than he thought.

**DDDDDDD**

"Scott?" Kira called out to him timidly.

"Kira," Scott rose to his feet.

"I hope I got here fast enough. You're not in a lot of pain, are you?" Kira was carrying a small bag with his prescription and a glass pan filled with pasta, "Here's your prescription. Also some leftover manicotti."

"Thank you. I really appreciate this," Scott smiled at her. He took the prescription and quickly took one of his pills. Kira set the pot on his desk.

"No big. I've been meaning to come down here anyway," she said, trying to act casual.

"You've been meaning to come down to the Federal Building?" He asked confused. That was kind of a weird thing to plan to do. Kira didn't seem like the kind of person that would have any kind of trouble. She was the sweet next door neighbor.

"Well, you know," she said off handily, realizing she was starting to look like a fool in front of Scott, "Uh, some guy in the hall asked me to give you this," she handed him a brown envelope.

Scott took it, immediately recognizing the handwriting. It was the same handwriting as the picture he received of Crystal. This time the writing was on the envelope. **Paul Ballard, Keep Looking**, It was followed by a spiral drawn where the stamp would normally go. "Some guy in the hall?" Could he have really been here? His mystery informant?

"Yeah. I was asking directions, and he heard me say your name. Why, is there something wrong?"

Scott took off down the hall toward Bonnie's office. Kira looked after him concerned and decided to follow. She had just had to fall for the dangerous F.B.I. agent.

**DDDDDDD**

Lydia and Stiles were standing in front of the monitor in her office. She pointed toward the camera, "Let's roll that back, please. I believe I spotted a tumescence at 3:21:04. Tell me what you think."

Stiles sighed and rolled back the tape, looking at yet another example of Isaac's hardening member through the steam of the shower, "Yeah, it ain't oak, but it's on its way to wood. Are we done?" Stiles pleaded.

"Go to Wednesday the 23rd, please," she ordered, ignoring Stiles' whining.

"You know, I could burn these and you could just take them home," he said half joking, half serious.

"Wait, freeze that."

"I will not," he said bluntly. Lydia gave him a quick mean look, but continued to analyze the footage. She had a theory. Something she didn't notice at first. Something that technically shouldn't have been possible.

She focused on the footage, looking around at all he people present in the shower hall. She smiled, "Of course. If it'd been a snake," Stiles gave her a look and she quickly realized how inappropriate that sounded, "Please pretend I didn't say that. Go back to 17:57:09. Can you zoom in to his face?" Stiles cycled through the tapes, following her instructions, "Now jump to 24:25:14. Freeze…. Well, I guess that rules out Miss Lonely Hearts."

"What is it?"

"It's not residual imprinting, it's her." Lydia pointed Isaac's line of sight. He was looking at Erica from across the other end of the shower hall, "It's Erica."

"What?" Stiles smiled, suddenly very interested in his new development.

"It only happens when she's there, and it started not long after she arrived. She's the new element that's been introduced to his environment, the catalyst to his physical response."

"He likes her," he simplified.

**DDDDDDD**

"I'm right, aren't I? Both were written by the same person," Scott insisted. He kept pacing back and forth, stopping on either side of Bonnie as she examined the letter and the picture.

"Give me a second," she said irritably. Lord only knows how bad he would be if she had refused to help him.

"And no postmark on either one, just this spiral. Kira, describe again the man who gave this to you."

She looked at him, slightly distracted by the conspiracy unraveling before her. "Uh, sure, he was maybe mid-20s, um, not overly tall. Cute, brownish hair."

"Did he have a cart?" Bonnie cut in, not bothering to look up from the writing.

"A cart? Uh, yes, yes, there was a cart there. I remember that."

"Was there mail on the cart?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, a lot of mail," Kira confirmed.

"Little Stevie from the mail room," she looked up at Scott, "Short, cute, brown hair, too lazy to walk to your desk."

"Oh." Scott said a little disappointed, "That little bastard."

"Still, though, you're right. The handwriting's a match, so whoever sent you the photo sent this to you too," she confirmed. She took the disk that was in the envelope and played it on her computer.

A video file came up. It was a young girl talking to someone behind the camera. She was seated by a fountain. Judging by the background and young kids walking around with backpacks, it looked like a college campus. Scott recognized her immediately. It was Crystal, "Okay, hi, Mom. Are we done?" He couldn't believe it. It was really her. "Oh, and the girls of Sigma Tau, sisters forever."

She didn't exactly seem comfortable behind the camera, but Kira couldn't help notice how pretty this girl was. She glanced at Scott as he watched her so closely, "Wow, the photograph didn't really do her justice, did it?" she said uncomfortably.

"Let's hope those venereal diseases make you all sterile, you snobby-ass pack of hos," Crystal insulted some random girls for the video diary.

"This is real. I mean, this is who she was… just a girl," Scott told them. This was proof. Crystal was real, and someone was leading him to her.

"Just a girl with a potty mouth," Bonnie said.

"Someone wanted me to see this," Scott told her, "Can you roll it back?"

Bonnie restarted the tape. "Ditra and Meg, life without you will be meaningless and bleak, my dormies."

"Okay, well, uh I should probably get going," Kira said, feeling like she was intruding, but also kind of wanting to get a rise out of Scott.

"Okay, thanks again, Kira," Scott took a seat next to Bonnie, starting to take notes on the video. He was so wrapped up in his work, that he didn't even notice her. That thought kind of hurt. And it was the only thing she could think of as she left.

**DDDDDDD**

Castiel and his followers were gathered around in the dining hall, enjoying a nice meal. Castiel had accepted Allison, and would be making a formal inauguration for her later that day. She sat with Misty at the other end of the dining hall, not really interested in her food.

"Esther you haven't eaten anything," Misty commented.

"I guess I'm too excited to eat. Misty, tell me what I'm missing," Allison asked her.

"Missing? You're not missing anything."

"Well show me everything that you see. Describe it all."

"Well, okay. It's a mess," she laughed, gazing around the room, "A beautiful mess. It's joy. Everyone's together. They're laughing, they're eating. Elijah's offering Rebecca a bite of his dessert… She's taking it…. Oh, now she's wearing it. Pasha's pouring his famous coffee, you have to try that….. Handsome Rory is watching you from across the room…. And he just saw me telling you that. Now he's turning very red. And Castiel….Castiel looks different."

"What do you mean?" Allison asked. Misty watched as Castiel smiled with the others in his flock. It was something she never thought she would see.

"Before you came, Castiel was losing his faith. You've changed that. I don't think he's ever looked this happy…. I wish you could see it," she said fondly.

"I just did," Allison took her hand, grateful for such a wonderful new friend.

**DDDDDDD**

Agent May was gathered with her team around a blueprint of the facility going over the plan, "When we breach, forward team here. We need to secure that arsenal."

Peter walked in to the sight of this. What concerned him though was that they were already dressed in their combat gear, ready to go in any second. "You're going in now?"

"Soon as my warrant comes through," May told him, "Just waiting on the judge."

"Then I need to extract my associate," he informed her.

"Sure. Why don't you go knock on the door, let them know we're coming?" She said sarcastically, "Are you nuts? Your girl stay put. She's my eyes in there."

"She's served that function!" Peter argued with her. "She's provided enough evidence for you to keep your case alive. Now I would like to do the same for her. In my judgment this action is premature."

"Your judgment? Look, I was told not to be too interested in where you and the girl really came from. No problem, I'm not. What I am interested in is putting Misha Allen, or Castiel Collins, or whatever he's calling himself this week, back where he belongs for good this time."

"You know this guy," Peter told her.

"Yeah, I know him," she misinterpreted it as a question.

"No, you know him," he insisted. He was aware of her personal stake in this case, and she didn't like being called out on it.

"You used to be cop, right? Me, too. 12 years, Laughlin PD. Back then he wasn't calling it a church, and they were mostly underage girls. We put him away for what was supposed to be forever. Forever turned out to be just shy of two years. Some judge decided he didn't like the way we handled the evidence. So when this judge calls, I'm not waiting."

Peter left the tent, realizing there was no reasoning with this woman. He had to take drastic measures, but he was going to need authorization first. He grabbed his phone and put in a call to Chris.

"This is Langton. I need your okay for a forced extraction."

"Allison, she's glitching on a government job. Damn it," he sighed. He knew something like this was going to happen.

"Allison is fine," he assured him, "She has performed perfectly within parameters."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Agent May. She's about to release the hounds of hell on that compound. Allison's imprint will not have prepared her for this," he told him, waiting for the go-ahead.

Chris thought for a minute. Maybe this could work to his advantage, "Do nothing."

Peter was bewildered, "What? If you're worried about a glitch…"

"No extraction. Authorization denied," Chris hung up on him. Peter was frustrated. He was aware of Chris's disapproval of Allison, but he didn't think he would let her be put in danger. He was going to have to look for another way to help her. He went into the tent, to see the team already moving out.

**DDDDDDD**

Allison and the others were gathered in the main hall after eating their meal. The sun was going down, making it very dim outside. Castiel stood in front of them all, introducing her as part of their family.

"In our book, the story of Esther is the story of a woman. Her father died when she was still in her mother's womb. Her mother died in childbirth. What was so extraordinary about the Esther of the Book was her unique vision. She could see things no one else could. This was the essence of the Esther of the Book, her ability to penetrate secrets, to pierce the darkness, to find the truths others could not. Our Esther, it seems, is no different. She says I appeared to her in a vision. You all know me. You know that I make no special claim to revelation. I'm just a man, weaker than most, but my faith is not weak, and as I see this place and all of you through Esther's eyes… her amazing eyes, which see things no one else can…that faith is only strengthened. Brother Elijah, would you bring our sister forward?"

"Sister," Elijah grabbed her hand and led her to the front. At the same time, the agents were gathering around the facility, preparing to breach the facility.

"Esther Carpenter, are you prepared to forsake the world of men, to give yourself, your life, your fidelity, and your industry to your brothers and sisters of the Temple?"

"I am." The team made their way through the gate, closing in on the building.

Castiel embraced Allison, kissing her forehead, "Return to the garden. A new beginning."

One of the strike team members accidently tripped a trap wire, setting off the compound lights. Their presence revealed. They cut off the power to the compound in response to shut off the lights, "Nobody move!" They yelled out.

"The grounds were rigged. Floods got tripped, we're made," one of the agents told May.

Everyone in the dining hall was panicking. "Castiel?" Elijah called out.

"Elijah. I need you with me," Castiel ran toward the basement door.

"I'm with you, Castiel," Elijah followed him closely behind.

"Hold your positions. Do not breach. Maintain perimeter," Agent May ordered. Damn it. They were so close. This was about to get a lot more complicated now that he knew they were there.

Elijah and Castiel came up with assault rifles, "Brother Elijah, guard the window."

"What's going on? I don't understand," Allison called out. Misty and the others had gathered around her comfortingly.

Castiel looked at her as her cries grabbed his attention. She showed up the same day as these people. She had to have been involved. He was sure of it now. He stormed over to her, "Was this you? Did you bring them here?"

"Who? I don't understand."

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her, demanding answers. How could he have been so blind to her true nature? She was a deceiver among men. "Did you do this? Did you bring the wolves to our door?!" He struck her across the face, causing her to fall to the floor.

Misty stood in front of him, begging him to stop, "Castiel, no, she's our sister."

Castiel pushed her out of the way, lifting Allison to her feet again, "The truth this time, Sister."

He went to slap her again, but this time she caught his hand, causing everyone to gasp out in surprise. She looked at him, the light now present in her eyes, "It's a miracle. I can see."

Inside the camp, the camera had been knocked out. They had no more intel, and no way of keeping track of them now, "We're blind."

**DDDDDDD**

Hours had passed. Castiel and his followers sat huddled by the walls, out of the sight of the agents outside.

Allison sat with Misty and Rory. "This is worse than Zion Ranch. Why does he have guns?" Misty asked.

"We have to trust him," he told her.

Elijah moved over next to Castiel, "Castiel. You must speak to them, to your people. They're afraid."

Castiel ignored him, focused wholly on Allison, "Do you believe it, Elijah? Do you believe in her?"

"I don't know. I don't know what to believe. We took her into the dark, you put the light in her eyes. There was nothing. No physical reaction, no change. How do you fake that?"

"And yet she sees," Castiel set his gun aside and crouched over to Allison, "Esther. Those men outside, I know you didn't bring them. I know you were telling me the truth. They've come to destroy us, to raze the garden and to salt the Earth. Esther. Before, I looked into your eyes and I saw nothing, and so I believed. And I look into them now and I need to know… was this a miracle?"

"I was blind, but now I see," she said.

He smiled in the comfort of his faith, "Then you were brought here for this purpose, so that I might know what to do. And now I do."

Peter and Agent May were still in the military tent arguing. The morning light coming up. "You've got no way at all to communicate with her?" May asked.

"No, I really don't," Peter said with distaste.

"So my inside man is worthless, is what you're telling me?"

"She was never your inside man!" Peter reprimanded her.

"Oh, so she's just another one of them. Fine, that's how she'll be treated," she threatened.

"Look, you do have someone on the inside, whoever sent out that cry for help. We should try to put a name to that, then at least maybe we can form a strategy."

"We are not going to do anything. You are not a part of this, not anymore."

Peter didn't get it. It was a good strategy. Why couldn't she see that? Was she so blinded by her own personal vendetta hat she couldn't think reasonably anymore?

Inside the compound, Castiel spoke to his people with renewed faith. "It is true. Below us is a cache of weapons. Brother Elijah and I have hidden them there in the event that this day should ever come. I prayed it would not, but I always knew that it would. The darkness cannot abide the light. And yet I now believe that my prayers were answered. Esther was sent to us in advance of these men. A demonstration of God's power. So you will not take up arms. You will not have to," He removed his gun and placed it on the ground. He stood up tall, ready to guide them out, "Come with me."

**DDDDDDD**

Scott and Bonnie and were watching the video for who knows how many times since the day before, trying to pick apart all the little details. "What about that? Can you isolate that background sound?" Scott asked her.

"It's not a background sound, it's my stomach," she said irritably. She was seriously starting to regret his company.

"Oh, well, we polished off the manicotti. You want some chips?" he offered.

All she did was give him a mean look. He had come to interpret that as a form of yes..kinda. Scott walked into the main office looking for the vending machine. A couple agents were gathered around the television set in the hall, watching some news program. He bought two bags of chips and walked over to the television.

"A religious cult known as the Children of the Temple…."

"What's up?" Scott asked one of the agents.

"Waco 2, maybe," he commented, referencing an old religious cult scandal.

"This was the scene today in Tuscon, Arizona where agents from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms surrounded this remote compound. The sight of the armed agents caused widespread panic. Cult leader Castiel Collins is wanted by federal authorities on unspecified charges."

Scott watched the footage as a group of the religious followers made their way out of a way building, crossing the compound to another building for the cameras to see. One young woman hung behind, ushering the others into the building. She was only on screen for a few seconds. The footage was from a distance so it was a little bit blurry, but it looked like her. It looked like Crystal. Scott stared at the screen in shock. He knew were to get to her. He had a lead.

Scott walked into Bonnie's office and dropped the bags of chips on her desk, "Never mind, I found her."

"What? Where?" she asked as he grabbed his coat and took off.

"Arizona."

**DDDDDDD**

"I didn't see who wrote the note. It could have been any one of 'em. There was a bit of a commotion going on up at the front of the store at the time," said Phil. Peter had made his way down to the convenience store where the note had been delivered.

"What kind of commotion?" Peter asked.

"Well, Jesse Dillard, mechanic across the way there. He followed 'em in here and he tried to, uh, provoke a thing there."

"Why?" Peter asked. People didn't generally attack others unprovoked.

"Well I mean, they are kind of odd, you know. But, uh, you know, there's been a lot of rumors about what's going on up there at that compound. Now, I never believed any of 'em until I saw that note." Rumors? If they kept to themselves how could here be rumors? Why would anyone even start them? There was nothing to be gained.

"Anyone check the security tape?" Peter asked.

"Well, nothing was stolen and nobody asked."

There was nothing to be gained…. There was nothing to be gained. Unless…

**DDDDDDD**

"We think he's moved everyone into this outbuilding here," one of the agents informed Agent May.

"No, that's not where he's got the guns stored," she told him.

"Still, doesn't mean he can't get to them. There could be tunnels, underground access."

"If there are tunnels, why he didn't use them to move his people? Why herd them out in broad daylight?" she asked him. Peer stormed in, carrying something in his hand.

"Will you give us a moment, Carlos?" The agent left her so she could speak to Peter, "Okay. You wanted to go in there and get your girl? I'm open to letting you do that. Under a couple of conditions."

"How about these conditions? You stay the hell out of my way and maybe I don't tell anyone it was you!" he said angrily. Peter showed her the picture of the surveillance footage from the store. In the background, Agent May was there disguised in civilian clothing and a baseball cap to hid her face, "You knew he sent his people into town once a month. You were waiting. You ginned up tempers. Started rumors in the town. Created a diversion, and then you wrote that note. That's how you got your warrant. Nobody ever asked to be saved. Not by you."

Castiel and his followers were seated inside their church. Castiel spoke with Elijah by the door, urging him to follow through with their plan. Everyone else seemed uneasy. Misty clung to Allison's side. Rory was in the front pew, unsure of how he felt about Allison, but mostly just terrified with the situation.

"You're witnessing the wonders of the most high Brother Elijah. Do not lose faith," Castiel urged him, "Now go. Go."

Elijah left the church quickly and quietly. It was getting dark outside, partially shrouding his movements. Castiel grabbed his bible and walked up to the front, addressing Allison, "Esther? Can you, uh, read? Sight read?"

"It's been a long time. I was nine," she looked at the others, seeing how terrified they were, "Yes."

He handed her the bible, opening it up to a specific passage, "Read that for us."

"Then Nebuchadnezzar ordered the furnace heated seven times hotter than normal, and commanded the strongest soldiers in his army to throw Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego into the fiery furnace…"

Elijah skulked around the compound grabbing a rubber hose and some fuel canisters from their storage.

One of the agents approached May, alerting her to the new development, "We got movement on the grounds."

"They're coming out?" she asked with mild surprise.

"Just one guy," he informed her. Castiel wouldn't risk his people. He had no play. But there was someone else with something to gain. Peter.

Allison continued to read the passage, "the furnace was so hot that the flames of the fire killed the soldiers who took them up. King Nebuchadnezzar leaped to his feet in amazement and asked his men, 'Weren't there three men that we tied up and threw into the fire?'"

Elijah ran up to the bus parked behind the church and opened up the gas tank. He put it in the rubber hose and started siphoning the gas into the container. When it was filled, he took the gasoline back to the church. He circled the building, throwing the gas onto the building. He took a match and lit the fire.

"And the King's men replied, 'Certainly, O King.' And the King said, 'Look! I see four men walking in the fire, unbound and unharmed, and the fourth looks like a son of the gods.' Nebuchadnezzar then approached the opening of the blazing furnace and shouted, 'Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, servants of the most high God, come out!' So Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego came out of the fire, and the King saw that the fire had not harmed their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed. Their robes were not scorched and there was no smell of fire upon them."

Everyone in the church was confused by the strange choice of passage. Elijah came rushing back into the church, taking his place in the pews.

"We have witnessed more than one miracle these last days," Castiel told them, "Prepare yourselves for the next."

Everyone looked at each other, realizing what was about to take place. Misty panicked and got up immediately, "No! No! No! I want to leave."

Castiel rushed over to her and pulled her back, "Misty, Misty, wait! Everyone, wait. Lose your faith, and you will perish. Those flames can't hurt us. They'll protect us. Only the unrighteous will be consumed. It's okay. Come, Sit."

Misty slowly took her place next to Allison. The others were too frightened to move. Some bowed their heads in prayer. Others sat in peace, prepared to face the trial at hand.

"Fire seems to be contained to our target building," one of the agents told May. They stood across from the compound with the strike team, watching the fire grow around the church.

"No. This might be a provocation. They might not even be in there, trying to draw us out," she reasoned. Castiel wasn't stupid, and he sure as hell wasn't crazy enough to protect his people with fire. She turned to address the team, "All right. Fire gear. We move in. Same pattern. This is not a rescue operation, not yet. We're still here to serve a warrant."

"Yes ma'am!"

Agent May looked back at the young agent, "That security consultant, Langton. I think he might have been working with Collins."

"The security consultant?"

"Yeah, he may be our fire starter. If he's gone in there, we take him down," she ordered.

Allison looked around at the people beginning to cough in their pews. The smoke was taking over the room. She rose to her feet, pleading, "Castiel. Castiel, you have to let them leave here. You have to tell them to!"

"Esther, where is your faith?" Castiel looked at her as if he couldn't believe her doubt. She was a message of faith.

"This isn't right. You can't force a miracle!"

"And he saw that the flames did not harm their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed, and there was no smell of fire upon them," Castiel quoted.

"These people are going to die from smoke inhalation before the flames," she warned him.

"If that's what God wants," Castiel conceded to the thought. "You pray. Let us pray!"

He bowed his head, everyone in the room following his lead. Allison had enough. Faith was one thing, but this was ritual suicide. She grabbed a candlestick on the table behind him, and bashed him in the head, causing him to fall unconscious. Everyone heard the hit, looking up in horror, some rising to their feet in a panic.

"Go!" Allison yelled.

"Esther!" shouted Misty

"What is wrong with you? You people are dying!" Allison yelled again.

"What have you done?" Elijah came running up, checking on Castiel to make sure he was okay.

Allison crouched down and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to focus on her, "Start taking these people out of here! He swore to protect them! If he won't, we have to." He was hesitant, unsure of what he should be doing, "Elijah, the blind girl is looking you in the eye. Do you know what that means? It means God brought me here. He has a message for you. And that message, IS MOVE YOUR ASS!" Elijah was shocked out of his stupor, as well as the rest of the church. They all got up scrambling to leave the building. Elijah got up and guided them outside.

Agent May and the other agents watched in surprise as the followers came running out of the burning church. The team moved forward and grabbed them, leading them away to safety.

Rory was still seated in his pew, praying as if nothing had happened. Allison rushed over to him, "Come on! Rory, we have to go."

"Where will we go?" he asked helplessly

"I don't know. But outside is life. In here, no," she said sympathetically.

"How can you doubt after God restored your sight?" His face turned to one of contempt. He was abandoned. He felt lost. How could she do this to them? To the brothers and sisters that took her in?

"Rory, I don't think God let me see again so I could just watch," she tried to reason.

He leaned forward and spit in her face, "Our home is gone."

Allison wiped the saliva off her cheek, and punched him in the face. He slouched forward, unconscious. Elijah came back after everyone else was out, picking up Rory.

"You got him?" Allison asked.

"Yeah." He took him out of the building. Allison turned around to try and grab Castiel. Even though he had caused this, he didn't deserve to burn.

But he was already standing, and he had a gun pointed at her. He must have had it tucked away in the back of his pants, because it went unnoticed until now. "And he commanded them to purge the evil from their midst."

Gunshots rang out through the church, but it was Castiel that fell dead. Allison whirled around to see a man dressed in black combat gear, a gasmask over his face. He pulled off the mask. It was Christopher Langton. She couldn't recognize him, but he seemed so familiar to her.

"Our trouble ends here," he smiled at her. He took the butt of his rifle, and hit her in the face. She fell back, the world going dark around her as the flames continued to burn.

DDDDDDD

"Castiel?" Agent May asked. She had yet to see him.

"We think he's still in there."

"Langton and the girl?"

"I don't know."

Agent May saw the news vans pulling up. Somehow the information had gotten out. It could have been Peter. He's the only one who could benefit from it. She couldn't exactly take action with the cameras running. "Pull the men back," she ordered.

Allison stirred, coming back to consciousness. A man with a black gas mask was leaning over her. He pulled it off. It wasn't the same man from before. It was Peter. He didn't look menacing or victorious. He looked concerned, almost… familiar. Trustworthy.

"I know you. How is that possible?" Allison said as she looked up at him.

"It's not," he told her.

"I thought you were an angel," she whispered.

He grabbed the gas mask and placed it over her face, letting her breath fresh air inside the smoking building. He picked her up and carried her out. Derek wasn't going to be too pleased with the outcome of this. He may have even had a hand in it. But he didn't care. The Dollhouse would recover easily, but he wasn't going to leave Allison in there.

Agent May was interviewing with one of the camera crews, trying to diffuse the situation, "Of course we won't stop until we're sure we've found everyone, but the grim fact is we don't think there are any more survivors." The reporter and camera man looked past her. They saw Peter walking out of the building, carrying a young, unidentified woman. May followed their line of sight. That bastard. He did call the camera crews, and knocked out one of her men by the look of the way he was dressed. May turned her attention back to the cameras, trying to act relieved that he saved her, "Thank God."

**DDDDDDD**

It was early morning. The sun was coming up in the wake of the fire. The news crews still hadn't backed off. The followers had been detained and were being questioned, until they were determined free to go. The media coverage had led to a whole mess of other agencies getting involved, and with Castiel dead, this was going to be a lot messier than it should have been.

Scott approached agent May, who was staring at the burned remains of the church, "You the AIC?"

"I was," she said dryly.

"Special Agent Ballard. FBI."

"FBI? Little late to the party," she scoffed, walking back into the tent.

"I see that. The people you took out of here, where are they?"

"Being debriefed and then released."

"Where?"

"Look, another agency has a problem how this went down, you can take it up with my superiors. I'm not gonna hand you the knife."

"What? No. I'm looking for this girl," he showed her the picture of Crystal, "She look familiar?"

She looked at the photo intently, "She could be anybody."

Scott was disappointed, but the other followers definitely had to be familiar with her, "Look, unofficially, before you release these folks, just let me talk to them."

"I don't do things unofficially. Get a warrant."

She left him alone in the tent. That was it. Another dead end. If he tried to use his credentials to talk to the followers, it would get back to the F.B.I. and it would no doubt lead to more problems. Bu she was here. He was getting closer. And just maybe, next time he would be able to save her.

**DDDDDDD**

Derek looked out onto the Dollhouse floor, basking in its serenity, "A place of safety, of untroubled certainty, of purity. This is the world we must maintain. It is imperative that nothing disturb the innocence of life here. Once any temptation is introduced, it will spread like a cancer, and all will be infected," he turned to face stiles and Lydia, "Isaac must be scrubbed and monitored closely."

Derek left the office and walked up the stairs as Chris joined his side, "So, tell me, Mr. Dominic. How was Arizona? I understand it's a dry heat," Chris gave him a surprised look. Well, as surprised a look as his training would allow him o reveal. "You requisitioned a company jet last night," Derek said, letting him know his actions did not go unnoticed.

Chris quickly covered his tracks, "Allison was glitching on a government job. I felt I should be on-site in case measures were called for," he lied. It didn't go as smoothly as he had wanted it to. Peter just had to show up and save her. A violation of a direct order. His direct order. Burning in a building was the perfect cover to get rid of Allison and protect the house. But now…

"I see," Derek said skeptically.

"As always, just trying to protect your interests," Chris told him. Well at least that part was true.

"I'm touched," Derek said sarcastically. He pressed the call button on the elevator.

"If I may, Allison has been exhibiting the same signs Jackson did before his composite event. She's at risk of becoming an Omega, maybe even another Kanima. Now, if you're not willing to send her to the Attic…"

Derek stepped into the elevator. He held his hands on both sides off the door so Chris couldn't follow him inside. He cut off Chris's speech. It was getting tired at this point, "Don't gamble on what I'd be willing to do, Mr. Dominic! Take the stairs." Derek pressed the button, leaving him behind.

**DDDDDDD**

Allison rose from the imprint chair, her memories wiped clean, returning her to her innocent Doll state. The camera and tech had been removed. There didn't seem to be any physical damage, but the technology had been knocked out of place.

"Hello, Allison. How are you feeling?"

"Did I fall asleep?"

"For a little while."

"Shall I go now?"

"If you like."

Allison got up to leave instinctively. Lydia came up behind her, still concerned about the effects of the camera.

"Allison? How's your vision? Can you see okay?"

Allison walked over to the banister of the walkway, looking out over the floor of the Dollhouse. She looked around until she saw Chris talking with one of the handlers. She stared at him, a bad feeling resonating through her body. He was dangerous, "I see perfectly."

AN: Okay, spoilers and other stuff related to this story, like who i picture the characters as, are on my tumblr page at .com

Follow if you are interested or have any questions regarding the just review or message me here! I love to hear from everybody and know what you are thinking! I will reply and update when i can. Until then, have a nice day!


	6. Episode 6: (The Mini-Episode)

**Episode 6: Picture Perfect (Mini-Episode)**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry I haven't been updating. These past few weeks I've actually gotten this terrible thing called a life. Now I'm working, going to school, and I was moving. I didn't even have internet for awhile. Mostly this episode wasn't done because I just didn't feel motivated about this one. So instead, I decided to just post the subplots from the episode that I really wanted to include as mini-episode. This way I can just move on to the next chapter. Which I can promise will be a full chapter. Again I am so sorry for taking so long, but I should start updating regularly again.**

**Scene one: Kira Comes Over**

Scott was sitting on the couch, looking over the various files he had gathered on the Dollhouse when he heard a knock on the door. He got up to answer it, not even bothering to look through the peep hole. He opened up to reveal his quirky next door neighbor. As usual she had on her nervous smile, one of anticipation and excitement. She looked especially pleased today that Scott almost didn't notice the stacks of paper in her hands.

"Kira, hey," he greeted. He pushed the door open a little more so he could stand in the hallway with her. She had her hair curled to the side and was wearing a blue sundress, making him painfully aware that he was only wearing his gray sweatpants. Since he was taking time away from the bureau these past few days, he didn't feel the need to dress up. In fact, it was much more comfortable than walking around in that damn suit all day. Although he could really go for it right now. For some reason he felt oddly uncomfortable being so exposed in her presence.

Kira didn't seem to notice his current apparel, but she was trying incredibly hard not to blush in front of him. "Hey! I just thought I would stop by."

"Not to bring over more pasta I'm assuming?" Scott said, pointing out the stack of papers that clearly wasn't a pan of food. In fact he was a little bit relieved. Kira was bringing him so much food lately that the taste of Italian food was beginning to make him sick.

"No. Actually, I printed out some research for you about the Dollhouse rumors floating around town. And I did some research online too. I even talked to a couple people personally."

"You didn't have to do that," Scott smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He thought it was incredibly sweet that she was trying to be helpful, if not a little misguided.

"Oh, it only took a couple of hours," she said simply.

Scott went wide eyed for a minute. That was a lot of effort it was almost scary, "Oh, wow. Okay, um why don't you come inside?" He stepped to the side she could enter his apartment. It would be rude not to have her over for at least a little while since she did all that work for him.

"Oh, um, okay," she moved past him feeling a little giddy that he invited her in.

"You know these investigations are technically supposed to be confidential, right?" He said, half joking, half serious. He shut the door behind her as she took a seat at the couch, quickly glancing at his files on the coffee table.

"Well I kind of already got involved when I came down to see you at the Bureau," she reasoned, referring to the message she had been delivered and the conversations about the Dollhouse she had overheard.

"Kira you talked to a mailman," he said, correcting the facts in her so-called involvement.

"Yeah, and before I knew that, he was a very real and potential danger. In light of those facts, I would like to think that I handled it well."

"Kira…" he started. He didn't want to rain on her parade, but she needed to be more realistic than that.

"Besides, there are Dollhouse rumors going around all over the city. It's hardly a secret. The only difference between them and me is that I actually believe you," she said honestly. She was suddenly so defiant and strong. It was a resolve he hadn't seen in her before.

"Why do you believe me?" Scott asked. Aside from Kira's newfound strength, her declaration that she actually supported him really sent him for a loop. It was so unusual for someone to willingly believe in him these days." Why do you think the Dollhouse is real?"

"Because you believe it's real," she smiled at him. "You don't have to bring me along on stakeouts or interrogations or anything like that. Besides, seeing you in bloody bandages doesn't exactly do wonders for my appetite."

"Well, then what do you want to do?" he asked.

"I just want to help any way I can. Review the information you pick up, look over the numbers. Maybe I'll see something you don't. At the very least I'm somebody you can talk to so you don't go crazy," she reached her hand out to him. It was probably her boldest gesture to date. She was willing to become apart of something that end up being very dangerous. "So what do you say?" she asked hopefully.

Scott gave a half-smile and took her hand. He really shouldn't be allowing her to participate, but then again the F.B.I. didn't approve of any of his actions lately. Maybe she really could help. But he wasn't going to let her get hurt. No matter what, he promised to himself that he would make sure she stayed out of it enough to stay safe. He offered to make some coffee while they reviewed the information she brought him. Without her realizing, Scott tucked away some of the more confidential files under the table.

**Scene 2: Lydia talks to Ethan**

Lydia strode through the halls of the Dollhouse. She had heard of the events transpiring regarding Allison and Peter. Apparently they had been taking by a deranged client and were being held in an unknown location. Somehow the client had learned about the G.P.S. tracking device in her body. She was concerned about them and was finding it hard to keep the subject off her mind. Mr. Dominic was out with the strike team tracking down the last known location of the van, and Stiles was working in Derek's office to figure out how well Allison would fair with her new imprint. He even took some of his equipment up there to see if he could figure out a way to track them down without the tracer in her body, keeping Derek informed the entire time.

Lydia wanted to be up there to help, but she needed to look after the dolls that were actually in her care at the moment. Still, she was concerned about Allison's state of mind. Stiles had modified an old imprint to satisfy the client. She tried asking for details, but he just went on and on about how her personality needed to be balanced by faults and skills. That part had always been obvious with imprints, but she was more concerned that a modified imprint could cause Allison harm. And Stiles had been vague on which imprint he had modified. The danger was that if Allison became aware of the imperfections in her memories, it could damage her psychological state, or even worse, put her in a coma.

Also she didn't want anything to happen to Peter either. She actually enjoyed talking to him. He didn't just spout off the normal Dollhouse procedures for answers. Honestly she was surprised to find him here at all. He often questioned the morality of the Dollhouse like she did, but he didn't seem to find anything redeeming in it. She never could understand that state of mind. Ironically, he was one of the few people that actually understood her. It was puzzling.

Lydia was on her way back to her office after talking to Cora, who was currently filling in for Stiles. She wasn't exactly doing any imprints or anything that important, Stiles wouldn't exactly allow it. She was mostly watching over the office and sorting the imprint files. Lydia saw Ethan sitting by himself on one of the couches, looking rather sad.

Lydia walked over to him, "Ethan? Is something wrong?" she asked him.

"I lost something," he said simply.

"What did you lose?" She asked, taking a seat next to him on his level.

"I-I can't remember. But I need it. I can't be my best without it," Ethan seemed to be very troubled by this. It was strange. She didn't recall the Dolls ever being in possession of anything they could lose. Let alone something that was a deciding factor in what could make them their best.

"I can help you look for it. Do you have any idea where it is?" She offered to help, grateful for an opportunity to get her mind off of things around the house.

"No. it's gone away now. It's not here," Ethan said, coming as close to a look of devastation as he possibly could in this state. He was absolute in his belief that this object was important to him, and that it wasn't even in the house anymore.

"Do you know what it's called?" She tried to lead him. She was filled with a burning desire to know what he was missing.

"Yes. It's called Keahu." Lydia could feel the shock wash over her in an instant. If she was standing, she would have taken a step back. He looked up at her with pleading eyes, reaching a hand out to tug at her sleeve, "Can you help me find Keahu?"

Lydia stood up. What could this possibly mean? Did he remember Danny? Did he remember Keahu?

**Scene 3: Scott and Kira**

"It's more of the same. The trails just go cold," Scott sighed. He dropped the paper he was looking at and dropped it on the table. "No matter how hard I try to find these people and follow the leads, they just vanish into thin air.

Kira felt a little bad that she hadn't actually been very helpful. Suddenly she had an idea. "Well then maybe you should stop looking for the people you think are taken by the Dollhouse. Maybe instead you should be looking for the money," she suggested.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked, hoping that maybe she was onto something.

"You have a list of incredibly rich people that you think went to the Dollhouse, right? What if you get a hold of their financial records and compare them. Look for any amounts of money that goes missing or goes into anonymous organizations that you've never heard of. Of course you might come across a lot of porn in that area…." Kira blushed, but for some reason couldn't stop looking directly at him, "I don't..I don't know why I just said that."

"Well porn aside," Scott said dismissively, trying not to smile at the way she made things adorably awkward, "I think that idea is genius. A company like the Dollhouse would still have standard payments for their clients to pay. If I can find that, I'll be so much closer to them. The only problem is… it's going to take days. There is a lot of money to keep track of when you're rich."

Kira looked at him realization. That little pause he had taken at the end had tipped her off, "Oh no. This is the part where you ask me to leave isn't it?"

"I just don't want you to sit around all day while I look through the numbers," he said sympathetically.

"I know," Kira said, understanding what he was saying, but also hating the fact that she was being shunned out of the case again so soon.

"Why don't we get something to eat? Have lunch… as a kind of thank you," Scott offered, seeing the disappointment in her eyes.

"Oh, great idea!" She exclaimed, immediately brightening up at the offer, "I'll make some pasta and…"

"No!" Scott cut her off quickly. She looked at him with confusion and he immediately tried to cover up his sudden outburst, "... I mean, why don't we have something else? I know a good takeout restaurant down the street. You really should try it. My treat."

"Great, let's go," Kira smiled.

**Scene 4: Lydia Interrogates the Dolls**

Lydia and Ethan were sitting in her office. Ethan was up on the exam table while she questioned him. She had to understand what he knew about Keahu before Derek found out and possibly threatened his well-being. If he caught wind of this, especially considering the situation at hand with Allison and Peter, things could go very badly.

"Ethan. Where did you hear about Keahu?" she asked him.

"I don' remember. But I need Keahu to be my best," Ethan replied. He didn't seem to be using any specific descriptions. He kept saying Keahu, and sometimes 'it', but he never actually said 'him'. Although, Dolls never really understood very much, but the lack of description could mean something.

"Ethan, do you know if Keahu is a person or a thing?" she asked him.

"I… I'm not sure," Ethan faltered. So he didn't know what Keahu was. It was unclear if he had just heard someone say his name, triggering a residual response, or if he was able to come up with the name himself. If it was the latter, things would be far worse for him if anyone found out, but it could also mean that he would be able to associate it with Danny. Especially after Isaac showed a physical interest in Erica, it was completely possible. After all, they didn't just meet in the Dollhouse, they had a prior relationship.

"How does Danny make you feel?" Lydia asked, trying to understand him.

"Danny is my friend. He makes me feel better," Ethan smiled.

"Do you think Danny knows anything about Keahu?" she led on, waiting to see if he could make the connection.

"I'm not sure. He tried to help me find it." Okay so that ruled that out potential cognitive development. Especially if he's asking Danny to find himself, no matter how poetic it may sound. Still, she wasn't getting anywhere with him.

Lydia switched tactics by bringing in his brother for questioning instead, "Aiden, do you know anything about Keahu?"

"I'm not sure what that is," Aiden replied simply. Well that was productive. She quickly dismissed him and moved on to question Isaac.

"Do you know anything about Keahu?" she asked him.

"Yes," Isaac replied. Great. Now she was on the right track.

"Where did you hear about Keahu?" she asked, hoping for something to go on. If just one of the Dolls could tell her where they heard it from; a handler, a staff member, or hell, even Stiles, she could write this whole situation off no problem.

"From Ethan," Isaac told her, "I was trying to help him find it, but I didn't know what I was looking for."

Damn it. At this rate she would have to interrogate the whole house, and that wasn't exactly an option. It would look to suspicious on camera, and then she would have to start answering questions and put Ethan in danger. She was going to have to think of another way to solve this matter.

**Scene 5: Lydia Goes to Cora**

Lydia walked into Stiles' office where Cora was currently organizing the imprint interface so Stiles could update it later. She was especially focused on this task so she could prove to Stiles that she could be more useful than he thought she was. Ethan followed closely behind her, gazing out the giant glass pan window that overlooked the Dollhouse.

"Cora…" Lydia started.

Cora cut her off, her eyes never leaving the computer screen, "I already told you Dr. Martin, I still don't know anything about Peter or Allison yet, and Stiles is still working with Derek."

"I'm not here about that," Lydia told her. She was going to go on but was cut off again. This time by Ethan.

"Where is the Mad Scientist?" Ethan asked innocently.

Cora looked up now realizing that Lydia had one of the Dolls with her, which probably meant something else was going on. She quickly addressed Ethan's otherwise unusual comment. "Oh, yeah, Stiles called himself that when he was arguing with Ethan and Aiden."

Lydia took a moment to wrap her head around the absurdity of that statement, "He was arguing with two Dolls?"

"He was trying to figure out which one was which," Cora informed her.

"He does know we color code any identical Dolls that come into our employment right?" Lydia asked, referencing the blue shirt Ethan always wore and the red one on Aiden.

"Not really sure," Cora thought for a minute. It was hard to tell how serious Stiles was at times. "Anyway, why are you with Ethan?"

"He asked me to help him find Keahu," Lydia said, waiting for the information to sink in.

Cora went wide eyed, "Does he remember him?"

"I don't think so. I was questioning the other Dolls closest to him. They don't know anything about Keahu, and neither does he. He even asked Danny to help him look for it."

"Well that's new. So why bring him to me?" Cora asked, still not getting the point of why Lydia was telling her all of this.

"I need you to wipe him," Lydia said bluntly.

"Why? Shouldn't Derek know about this?"

"As far as we know, a passing handler mentioned Keahu's name and Ethan heard it. If Derek hears about this, especially now, it could turn into something more."

"So you want me to help you cover this up," Cora realized.

"I want you to help me do my job," Lydia pleaded. "To keep them safe."

**Scene 6: Kira Goes Home**

Scott held open the door to his apartment as Kira went to leave and go back to her apartment. "Thank you Kira. For all of this."

"Oh, it was nothing," she blushed, smiling brightly. She couldn't believe that she was on the ground floor of an actual F.B.I. investigation. It was all so exciting!

"No. It's really great. Following the money trail was a great idea. It's so obvious that I couldn't even see it," Scott smiled at her, truly grateful for her support.

"Oh well, I guess it's hard to see what's right in front of you sometimes," she said shyly, doing her best to maintain eye contact. She eventually conceded and looked over to the clock on the wall behind him.

"Your right. Look I just wanted…"

Kira cut him off frantically, "Oh my god is that the time?! I'm late for my date!" Kira ran right over to her apartment door and fumbled with her keys.

"Date?" Scott asked, following her out into the hall.

"Yeah with this guy named Rick. I met him at the coffee shop," she informed him. She got the door open and stepped halfway inside so she could finish talking to Scott.

"Oh, well then I don't want to keep you waiting," Scott said, giving her space.

"Sorry about this. Look, if you ever want to talk, or need help, I'll offer my powers of obviousness to, you know, help," she fumbled over her words. She finally got the door open and moved inside as fasr as she could.

"Sure I'll…" Kira had already made her way inside and closed the door before could finish, "do that."

**Scene 7: Dollhouse Resolutions**

"Are Allison and Peter okay?" Cora asked Stiles. Stiles had come back from Derek's office.

"They're fine," he told her. He looked around the room quickly, "You didn't mess with anything while I was up there did you?"

"No..." Cora said. She hoped that he wouldn't find out what she did. Ethan was gone, but Lydia had hung around to look over the results, "nothing happened. I've just been updating the logs."

Stiles looked over at Lydia, just barely noticing her presence, "Dr. Martin. How are you?"

"Relieved that everyone is alright," she said, leaving the office without saying anything else. Ignoring him like usual would seem the least suspicious. She made her way down the step, grateful that Peter and Allison had made it back okay. She saw Ethan walking by and stopped him. "Hello Ethan, how are you doing?"

"I swam thirty laps. It helps me be my best." He told her.

"Why don't you relax in the art class?" she offered.

"I would like that," he turned to leave but stopped him again.

"Ethan! Have you found Keahu yet?"

He looked over at her confused, "I don't know what that is." She watched as he walked away over to the art station. It had worked, and she was truly grateful for Cora's help. It had worked. As she turned to walk into her office, what she didn't see was Ethan taking a seat next to Danny.

**Again I'm so sorry that this is all you get after waiting so long, but I would still appreciate reviews for what you think about it so far. Also, I post spoilers and information about future chapters on my Tumblr page, Horrorskit. Check it out!**


	7. Episode 7: Three Flowers

**Author's Note: I own absolutely nothing. This is for fun and for my friends on tumblr. I would like to dedicate this chapter to my biggest supporter, darkhallways, who has cameo appearances in my story as Mario Ballesteros. I really appreciate your kind words. This episode is one of the biggest reasons I wanted to write this story. I hope you like it, and I would really love to hear what you have to say about it.**

**Episode 7: Three Flowers**

Scott Ballard sat in Rafael McCall's office, reviewing the files from the Matthew Connell case. He had stumbled upon some inconsistencies in the financial records of potential Dollhouse clients that could prove to be very useful, but he needed Connell's records. Although, since it wasn't technically his case, he had to take liberties. He knew McCall would pitch a fit, but he didn't care at this point. Besides, it wasn't like he was planning to be here when he showed up anyway.

"No. It can't be that easy," Scott smiled. Kira had been right on the money. Literally. The money trail from Connell's account had gone into an unknown account at the same time the Crestejo girl had gone missing. Something like that couldn't just be coincidence. Scott sent the file to his computer and was about to print out a copy when a hand closed the laptop on him, almost pinching his fingers.

"This is my case," the man said irritably.

Scott looked up to see Rafael McCall looming over him, looking more than displeased. He had come back from his break a little earlier than usual. Or maybe one of the other douchebag agents told him that Scott was in his office. After all, Scott wasn't exactly popular these days.

"You closed it," Scott said matter-of-factly.

"What, do you come into my house and dig through my garbage too?" Agent McCall responded sarcastically.

"You're out of hand cream again," Scott joked, remaining in Rafael's seat as a gesture of defiance.

Rafael saw the picture of Crystal on Scott's file and picked it up, seeing an opportunity to poke Scott's buttons, "This the alleged victim? Damn. No wonder you're foraging for hand cream. If I had a million bucks, I could blow it on that."

"Did you track this payment from Connell? The Mayfair fund?" Scott ignored him, trying to get his answers as quickly as possible so he could leave.

"Told you to stay out of my soup Ballard," Rafael warned him. The constant meddling was really starting to piss him off.

"Afraid you'll have to reopen the case? Act like a federal agent for five minutes?" Scott countered.

"This is _my_ report. If there is some giant conspiracy that's sucking the brains out of nice young people, then this bit of tail that you're chasing," Rafael held up the picture of Crystal, "is A: effectively dead, and B: a whore. A mindless whore. Just your type. No disrespect. I'm sure she still has a heart of gold."

Scott shot up and grabbed him, twisting his arm behind his back and pressing his torso against the wall. Scott grabbed the photo out of his hands and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. Rafael grunted, a little happy that he had gotten Scott to show his true colors, "What happened there, Ballard? I strike a nerve?"

"Yeah. Felt like this," Scott grabbed his arm and pressed it in at an angle. He felt the bones crack in his grip as Rafael screamed out in pain. Scott let him go and he dropped to the floor.

"You are not long for this world," Rafael gasped out at him in an almost yell, crouching down on the ground and holding his arm.

"I think you'd better lie down," Scott said.

"I mean it. Someone's going to put you down. And I pray to God I'm there to see it," Rafael spat at him.

Scott grabbed his files off the desk, leaving Rafael behind without offering him any help, "Come by any time," Scott told him.

**DDDDDDD**

Allison and Isaac sat together eating breakfast. They were already used to sitting with each other according to Stiles' "Bison" theory, but they had also been in the house for a couple of days and had grown accustomed to each other's presence. And they weren't the only ones. Danny often sat with both of the twins, but usually his attention was focused on Ethan. It wasn't a sexual attraction like Isaac had shown Erica in the showers. It was some kind of familiarity that kept drawing the two together, and that was what caught people's attention. What was really interesting was Danny was always able to tell which Ethan was, even after coming back from an engagement with a fresh memory wipe.

Erica walked by Allison and Isaac with her food and sat at a table by herself. Isaac noticed her immediately, and followed her movements to the secluded spot she had chosen to sit. He felt a little sad that she wasn't near him. Despite Stiles' attempts to suppress his sexual urges, he still liked to be around her. It was very much in the same way that children became attached to each other.

Isaac turned his attention to Allison and spoke, "Erica is alone."

"I like to be alone sometimes," Allison said, "It's peaceful."

That didn't satisfy him. He looked back at her, and he could have sworn she looked like she was about to cry. Of course he didn't know how to process that. He looked back at Allison, as if she would offer him some kind of counsel on what to do, "Erica sits with us most days. Am I wrong?" he asked.

"When we go to sleep, I hear her…" Allison began, but she didn't get a chance to finish.

"Maybe she didn't see us," Isaac said quickly. He got up and walked over to Erica so that she could come and be with them. He put his hand on her shoulder to get her attention, but before he could speak Erica started screaming hysterically. She fell out of her chair and moved away from him, acting as if he were some psychopath looming over him. Isaac didn't understand and looked around for help, like someone was going to do something. The other Dolls just looked on in utter confusion, not really getting what was going on. The staff ran over to calm the situation.

**DDDDDDD**

Erica had been taken to Dr. Martin's office for an examination. She was wearing a silk robe, and was laid flat on her back. Lydia took off her gloves, astounded by what she had found. To think something like this could happen here… She didn't always approve of what took place in the Dollhouse, but this was just sick.

"Do you feel uncomfortable at all?" Lydia asked soothingly.

"No. Should I?" Erica asked. She had been acting normal ever since she was brought into her office. It was almost like she had completely forgotten about screaming her head off at Isaac not less than an hour ago. Normally that would have been a farfetched idea, but considering their setting..…memory was kinda off the menu of things you could rely on.

"Did Isaac upset you, do you remember?" Lydia asked, trying to get anything out of her that she could.

"Isaac wants to pretend," she said.

"Pretend?" Lydia asked, growing concerned at the unusual sentiment.

"He pretends we're married," Erica replied, almost smiling.

"I see," Lydia said, trying to hide her emotions. That smile was almost scary given the circumstances.

Lydia let Erica go just as Peter and Erica's handler, Joe Finstock, came in. "Something's up?" Peter asked.

"Yes. Erica's had sex," Lydia told them.

"No, sir," Finstock corrected her.

"You know for sure?" Peter asked him. Many engagements had sexual liaisons, whether that was the original intent or not. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of the encounters.

"Her last engagement was with the Governor's niece at a children's cancer ward," Finstock told him.

Lydia cut-in, wanting to get to the point, "I examined her post-engagement anyway," Lydia informed them, "This happened while she's been here."

"What did she say about Isaac?" Peter asked.

"That he liked to play," Lydia said. The nature of this situation was staring to sink in for Peter. If Isaac had abused Erica at all… or if Derek caught on to this, if he hadn't already, things could go from bad to extremely worse.

Finstock cut in, both confused and concerned, "Wait, the Dolls don't have sex drives. That's part of the deal, right? What do you guys know?"

"Since when do you care what happens to her?" Peter asked, noticing that he wasn't acting like an inconsiderate ass like he usually did.

"Since I was hired to," Finstock defended himself. "Just because I'm not Andy Griffith with these guys doesn't mean I want to see them abusing each other. If Isaac's off-program, then he could be Jekyll and Hyde-ing just like Kanima."

"We can't jump to any conclusions," Lydia said, worried that he might get Isaac into even more trouble.

"No, but we can go to the videotape," Finstock said heatedly. Lydia couldn't say that she wasn't pleased to see that he had an emotional range beyond indifference, but it wasn't exactly great that it was anger directed at Isaac.

"How long has she….?" Peter started.

"Two days," Finstock said, "If Isaac was alone with her, it won't take long to find." It was true. Every inch of the Dollhouse was supposed to be recorded and monitored. It made it impossible to hide anything, and it ensured the safety of the Dollhouse. But in these situations, it could be condemning.

Lydia didn't want him to overreact and tried to usher in a plea of reason, "Mr. Finstock, when you figure out what happened, then…"

"I go to DeWitt!" he yelled, "If Isaac is playing doctor when not imprinted with an M.D., then he goes to the Nemeton." He stormed out of the office and slammed the door behind him. The issue of Erica's abuse had really gotten to him. Lydia couldn't help but wonder if there was some connection there to his personal life. Some kind of reason he reacted so strongly in this case, but kept an emotional wall up every other time. Maybe she could help him overcome whatever it was, but she couldn't focus on that now. Not when he was putting Isaac at risk.

"Isaac wouldn't…" she said, as if she needed to defend herself, and Isaac, to Peter.

"She did scream when she saw him." Peter said, entertaining the possibility that Finstock was right, "And we both know he's been…. focused on her."

Lydia didn't like the insinuation he was making, even if it was unintentional. She spoke calmly, but firm, "There's a difference between being attracted to someone and hurting them."

Peter backed down, changing his approach, "Has she shown any other sign? Anything you can remember?"

"When we go to sleep," Peter whirled around to see Allison standing in the open doorway on the other side of the room. They couldn't tell how long she had been there, but apparently she had heard enough of the conversation to speak up, "When we go in the pods, Erica cries," she said. Peter and Lydia looked at each other, wondering what that could mean. Even more puzzling was Allison's sudden interest in a subject she couldn't have been possibly been able to understand.

**DDDDDDD**

Scott was hovering over Bonnie as she looked over his most recent finds. Even after he healed from his gunshot wounds, she was still willing to help him. Maybe he had convinced her that the Dollhouse was real. Or maybe it was pity, which was more likely. Scott didn't really care. As long as she was willing to offer up the information, he wouldn't ask questions, "Am I right? I'm right, right? Am I right?"

"McCall's going to the Director," she told him, ignoring his childlike behavior while she finished running the results, "You know he threw up after you pulled that Vulcan grip crap. But yes, I think you're right." She pulled up the information on her computer so she could show him, "This is the Connell account. Right here is a big payment to the Mayfair fund, which means nothing."

"So Mayfair is a hedge, and it's spread thin. But that payment went in right around the time the Crestejo girl was kidnapped," Scott continued for her.

She clicked a button and brought up another account, "Now you have a similar sum transferred to the Mayfair fund from Q-Field. And this is the fun part, you have the same amount from Q-Field to Mayfair, every year on the exact same day."

"Q-Field is a subsidiary of Redwing, a majority share of which is held by Joel Stilinski," Scott said, pulling out a picture of the older man.

"And Joel Stilinski is on your list of potential Dollhouse clients," she said, taking the picture from him, "Man, even I know about this guy. He's that internet mogul. He created Sorceress, E-tilites, Bouncy the Rat. My kids fiercely love Bouncy the Rat."

"A Dotcom billionaire with serious commitment issues, who shows up at every charity gig with a fabulous nobody on his arm. I've liked this guy for a while," Scott said, glad that he finally made the connection to him.

"You ever thought about asking him out?" Bonnie joked.

"I'm never going to get to Crystal. Whoever she is, the Dollhouse has her buried. I've got to get to them first, and Joel Stilinski is my ticket," Scott said, finally realizing just how much help Kira had been that day. Even though Bonnie was willing to help, she wasn't like Kira. Kira believed in him, and she genuinely cared. She was so…

"Whatever he's paying for, it's happening soon," Bonnie said, bringing Scott out of his train of thought.

"I need everything on him that you can get me."

"You mean everything admissible by a warrant that _you_ don't have, because everybody in the entire bureau thinks you're insane."

"I mean help me out," Scott said, ignoring her little jab at his ego.

"Getting shot didn't even make you pause, did it?" She scoffed, a hint of amusement in her voice, "I'll help you. But if the Director sees what we're up to, _he's_ going to help you out," she warned him.

**DDDDDDD**

"You wanted to see me?" Lydia asked, walking into Derek's office. He was over by the bar, finishing up what she could only believe was a glass of whiskey.

"Dr. Martin, yes, sit down," Derek put his glass down at the bar and took a seat at his desk. He seemed calm, but Lydia knew better. He was the perfect businessman. Calm and collected on the outside, hiding away all his volatile emotions to be utilized at the proper time.

"I'd rather stand," she said flatly. She already knew what this was about, but she was still concerned. He had never called for her to personally come into his office before.

"Fine. Straight to the point then," Derek said. "The reason I called you up here is because I want your opinion on the incident with Erica. Do you think Isaac is responsible?"

"So you already know?" she replied, her suspicions confirmed.

"There is little that takes place in my house that I am unaware of Dr. Martin. You should know that better than anyone," Derek looked at her knowingly. He never said it, but he always made it clear when they talked that he knew about the incident with Danny and Cora. It made their encounters over the past couple weeks very uncomfortable, but she never swayed on her position.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" She always held her ground in his presence, but she often thought that he liked the challenge her defiance brought him.

"No, merely to inform you, which is exactly what I want you to do for me."

Lydia sighed, reciting her findings for him, "Given Isaac's recent history with Erica, it is possible that there is still a lingering attraction. Plus he comes from a violent background that could potentially cause him to act out aggressively."

"So you think he's a likely culprit?"

"There is strong evidence stacked against him, but I talked to Stiles, and he and I both agree that he isn't capable of this."

"Well if you and Stiles can agree on something than this world really has turned on its head," Derek said, sarcastically amused.

"Isaac may be capable of acting out, but so are the others. Over half the Dolls in this house come from unpleasant backgrounds, but all act and perform normally. Even with all of the factors working in cohesion, Isaac isn't competent enough in his Doll state to do something as sophisticated as rape."

"Sophisticated?"

"I only mean that he would be incapable of understanding how pleasurable the experience could be for him, let alone how humiliating it could be for her."

"You'd be surprised what someone is capable of when they feel an all encompassing desire."

**DDDDDDD**

Kira sat with Scott in his living room while they ate lunch. He was sharing the latest news on his investigation while she was playing catch up, "So the one fund got transferred to the other fund, and that's the same as the other, other fund, and that's all important," she finished.

"That's it. Exactly," Scott smiled at her.

"You have a very glamorous job," she said sarcastically.

"How do you think I can afford to take you to all these fancy places?" Scott joked, holding up his hamburger.

"Hey, this is the nicest offer I've had this month. Or last month," she remarked.

"Weren't you, um, seeing someone? Hmm? Rick?" Scott said, thinking back to when she first told him a few weeks ago.

"Dick," Kira said quickly.

"Really? I thought it was Rick," Scott said.

"Oh, his name is Rick," she said pointedly.

"Oh."

"Mm-hmm. He said he didn't see me as 'a long-term investment.' He said he wanted to, uh, 'dump the stock before it went public.' He talks like that. He actually works at a doughnut shop," she told him.

"What a Rick," Scott agreed with her in a joking manner.

"Yeah. Hey, I get that I'm not the gold standard in L.A," Kira said.

"Please, you're gorgeous," Scott told her as he quickly took a bite of his burger. She looked at him, feeling the bittersweet conflict of emotions. He said it so easily, like it was obvious that she was desirable, like _he _could desire her. So why was he at such a loss all the time? How could he notice her and still not notice her?

She tried to wipe away her doubt and continue before the conversation before he became suspicious about her sudden silence, "But I do have access to important government information that I don't always understand. What I do know boils down to this: Today was a slightly better day for the good guys than it was for the bad guys," she said, adding a little vocal fistbump to her tone.

"Just one more tiny step to get me closer to bringing her in," Scott said.

"Them," Kira corrected. He was thinking about Crystal again. Ever since he got her picture, she was always on his mind. Ever since he got that picture, she was always on the backburner of his mind. It was like she was a target for his obsession with the Dollhouse.

"What?" Scott asked, not even noticing the mistake.

"Bringing _them_ in. You said her," she told him.

"Oh. Well, _her_ is being held captive by _them_, along with a lot of other people. So if I really catch my client in the act tomorrow with a Doll, I'm closer to freeing them all. Including, but not limited to, _her_. Is that fair?" Scott finished. He saw the smile fade from Kira's face, and he knew why. But he just couldn't do that for her, no matter how much he may have wanted too.

"It's your job," Kira said flatly.

**DDDDDDD**

"Stiles?" Cora walked into his office tentatively. He was staring out the window at Erica. He stood there with a kind of stillness that she had never seen from him before. She didn't even think the spastic scientist was capable of something like this. His face was unreadable, but the room seemed to be weighed down with somberness.

"I helped her you know," Stiles said, his gaze never leaving Erica, "When she first came to us, she was in so much pain. The only reason she's her is because of me."

Cora walked up to him and looked over his shoulder so she could look at Erica too. "You're not blaming yourself for what happened to her are you?" She had never heard the whole story of how Erica came to be in the Dollhouse. Stiles had kept most of the process under wraps. Her only involvement was helping him finish Erica's transition into a Doll.

"No, it's just…. " Stiles sighed and walked over to the imprint monitor, "She escapes one hell to fall into another one."

"She doesn't have to remember. You can take that away too," Cora offered up to him.

"Still doesn't change the fact that it actually happened," Stiles said as began bringing up the imprint files.

"What do you think we do here Stiles? Isn't the whole point of this? So that anything can happen to them as long as they don't have to remember?"

"Not like this. She isn't even a person right now. She's empty, and more innocent than anyone can possible imagine. Taking advantage of that…. It's like harming a child." He closed the files and walked over to the imprint shelf. He punched in the request code and the shelf began to rotate behind the wall, opening up the specific cabinet he needed.

"What are you doing?" she inquired.

He pulled out the cabinet and opened it up, grabbing a specific imprint wedge, "I'm working. Don't worry about it. It's just one of our annual clients."

**DDDDDDD**

Joel Stilinski was standing outside his suburban home while his private security team checked the house. Everything had to be just perfect. He waited anxiously for them to finish, knowing she would be there any minute.

One of his agents approached him, "We're all clear in there."

"Okay, I don't want to see anybody in the house or around the house, and that includes the boys," Joel told him.

"They get it. You'll be very much alone," he confirmed.

Scott Ballard had made his way onto the house perimeter. As soon as he saw Mr. Stilinski, Scott moved into the backyard. He crept up on one of the security agents on the perimeter. Scott pulled out his gun and aimed it at his head as he came up on him. The man turned around and froze, seeing the gun pointed in his face. Scott held up his finger to tell him to keep quiet and then motioned for him to follow him.

Mr. Stilinski was waiting on the front yard as the car pulled up. The young girl stepped out of the car quickly, looking alarmed, "Joel?" she rushed over to him. She was wearing a flowery dress and had her hair pulled in a ponytail.

"Hi, honey," Mr. Stilinski said happily.

"Are you okay? You sounded so serious on the phone," she asked wrapping her arms around him. She was terribly confused about why he had brought her here.

"I'm a serious guy," he joked.

"You're a dork," she giggled, "Louanne's covering for me, so this can't take forever."

"You may have to owe her one. I did something," he smiled.

"Something bad?"

At the same time Scott was busy subduing the security staff. He had gotten the drop on all of them. Surprisingly, they were not very clever for a private security team. It was like they didn't know the area at all. Still, it was hard to believe someone as rich as Joel Stilinski would live in a tiny little suburb like this.

He made his way into the house, hearing idle conversation going on in the kitchen. He walked down the hall cautiously in case there were any more guards inside. Immediately he noticed something was wrong with the house. It was completely empty. It hadn't even been lived in. So why would Joel Stilinski bring a Doll to an empty house in the suburbs? Scott passed an open bedroom and looked inside. There was a large bed inside with rose petals strewn across it. Scott scoffed. It was always the same with these rich people.

"Joel this is amazing!" he heard a young woman exclaim excitedly.

"You know the oven gets food so hot, it actually goes through this thing called the 'cooking process.' It's very scientific. Um, and I think there's something in the fridge too."

Scott heard the fridge open and made his move. He rounded the corner and pointed his gun at them. Mr. Stilinski was holding two champagne glasses, and the woman's face was hidden by the fridge, "I'd like you both to turn around very slowly… What's the matter, Mr. Stilinski? Did you two want to be….," Allison moved out from behind the fridge door, and Scott finally saw her. He almost couldn't breathe. She was finally here. Right in front of him. It was Crystal, "..…Alone?"

Scott almost dropped his gun. Mr. Stilinski saw the way their new guest looked at Allison and decided to cut in, "Okay, whoever you are, I think you've made a mistake."

"What's happening?" Allison asked, panic present in her voice.

"Crystal?" Scott asked her, still in disbelief at her presence.

"Okay, you've definitely made a mistake," Mr. Stilinski cut in.

"What do you call her?" Scott asked accusingly.

Allison spoke up, hoping that this whole situation would stop, "Please put the gun away. My name is Claudia Stilinski, and this is my husband, Joel. We just bought this house," she looked over at her supposed husband with doubt, "We did, right? You didn't just break in to impress me?"

"No, it-it's paid for. This is all a big mix-up. Please," he addressed Scott again, "tell me your name."

"I'm Scott Ballard. I'm with the F.B.I."

"I knew it," Allison said, as if she suddenly understood what was going on.

"What?" Mr. Stilinski asked.

"It's porn, isn't it? The internet venture that suddenly pays off? You did porn! My husband does porn!" Allison exclaimed. Okay, so she wasn't getting it.

"No, I don't do porn!" He yelled at her, before turning on Scott, "You're in huge trouble!"

Scott decided to just focus on her and ignore Mr. Stilinski, "Your name is Crystal. You don't know this, but you're being fooled. You're being used."

"Okay, I'm giving you one last chance to leave," Mr. Stilinski warned him. He was getting fed up with this.

"Joel, please don't make him angry," she urged.

"I would never hurt you," Scott insisted, moving toward her. Suddenly he felt a sharp stab in his back, and his body go rigid as he was hit with a taser gun. Allison screamed in response as he fell in her direction. One of Stilinski's security team had made it inside after noticing the others were unconscious outside.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Stilinski, he attacked most of our men."

Allison began to freak out, "Who is this? You know this man? Is this a porn man?"

"No, there's no porn!" he yelled again.

"Don't yell at me."

"I'm not yelling at you. I just…"

"I don't like this house," she said.

"Sweetie I…" but he didn't get to finish as Scott rose to his feet and attacked the security agent. Allison screamed and Mr. Stilinski grabbed her to guide her out of the house.

Scott knocked the guard down to his knees and turned to grab Mr. Stilinski. He grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him back into the kitchen, causing him to fall on the floor. The guard was quickly on him again, tackling him to the ground.

"God! Joel!" Allison called out. She went to help him, but was pulled in the other direction. She looked up to see Peter holding her arm.

"You need a treatment," he said urgently. She responded automatically and followed him.

As he guided her down the hallway she saw the bedroom with the rose petals strewn across the bed. She stopped and pointed at the bed, looking Peter dead in the eye, "Porn!" Peter rolled his eyes and continued pulling her toward the van.

The guard was holding Scott from behind. Scott elbowed him in the stomach, loosening his hold, and then threw his head back, effectively breaking his nose. He cupped his face in reaction to the pain, giving Scott the room to turn around and punch him in the face. He fell to the ground. The man wasn't unconscious, but he wasn't getting up anytime soon. Scott looked over at Joel who had gotten up and was now sitting in a chair at the kitchen table.

"Hope you're not thinking about leaving, Mr. Stilinski," Scott said sarcastically, grabbing a chair and sitting across from him.

"Can I assume none of my security guys need an ambulance… or a hearse?"

"They'll be fine," Scott said flatly.

"Why don't you, uh, tell me what you're looking for?" Joel asked.

"I found what I was looking for," Scott said. It was true. He had found Crystal. Her very presence was proof that he wasn't crazy. But he was still upset. He had let her get away.

"Really? Figured you'd be a lot happier right about now," Joel said.

"Tell me about the Dollhouse," Scott demanded.

Joel acted like he was confused, "The Doll….? Uh, it's pink and it opens up and there's teeny furniture inside."

"What's her name?"

"Claudia. She told you," Joel insisted.

"Really? How do you know Claudia?" Scott asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.

"We've been married for seven years."

Scott almost laughed, "So that's your fantasy? All the money in the world, the most elaborate, high-class underground operation ever designed, and you just want to play house? I guess the rich really are different," he scoffed.

"Why, what's your fantasy?" he asked accusingly.

"Oh, I'm okay right here in the real world, thanks."

"Oh, don't, no," Joel disputed. He didn't very much like being judged, and there was no way he was going to let the one doing it to get off easy, "you have a fantasy. Okay. We all do. We need it to survive, and I think your fantasy, is about my Claudia."

"Her name is Crystal," Scott told him.

"Right," Joel said, reveling in Scott's devotion to the truth. Whether he realized it or not, she was his fantasy.

"A few years ago, she was a student, and then she had her identity ripped from her so she could play love slave to every loser with a wad of cash."

Joel continued, speaking as if it was the setup for some great story, "But then, the brave little F.B.I. agent whisked her away from the cash-wielding losers and restored her true identity, and she fell in love with him."

"It doesn't go like that," Scott shook his head.

"I saw how you were with her. It was… it was almost cute," Joel said, looking at him like he was pathetic.

"We're not here to talk about me," Scott said, feeling like the judgement he was getting was laughable in the wake of the _actual_ Dollhouse client before him.

"Hey, I don't have to be here at all," Joel said, grabbing the bottle of champagne and popping it open, "I mean, you're not going to arrest me. Pretty sure you're not going to kill me. So if we're going to talk, we're _both_ going to talk. I mean, she changed things for you. So you're the head of this F.B.I. task force to uncover the Dollhouse, and you're working hard, you're chasing leads, you're cracking skulls, but it's just work. And then you meet this girl or you see her somewhere, huh? Crystal? And suddenly it gets personal. Tell me you haven't thought about it. Her grateful tears, her welcoming embrace, her warm breath. Are you married?"

"Was."

"Is there someone in your life right now?"

"This is getting old," Scott exclaimed irritably.

"Of course not! No, there's no room for a real girl, is there, when you can feel Crystal beckoning?" Scott found his thoughts venturing to Kira. Was he right? "You know, I have to say I-I think your fantasy is even sadder than mine."

"Won't know until I hear it," Scott said, regaining his composure.

"Well, it didn't involve drinking alone," he said, pouring himself a glass.

**DDDDDDD**

"Isaac, can you tell me about Sierra?" Lydia asked. She had brought Isaac in and was working with Stiles to check his responses. After her conversation with Derek, she wanted to do another exam to make sure Isaac's vitals were on the up and up. Lydia was shining a light in his eyes to check his pupil dilation.

"Erica is beautiful," Isaac answered.

"There's a lot of beautiful girls here," Stiles said, "It's pretty much the idea. Beauty." Stiles wasn't being very helpful so far. He was mostly just sitting back in her office chair while she finished Isaac's physical. He was acting unusually somber, and it was driving her nuts. It was definitely a cruel irony that the one time, out of all the times she asked for him to stop acting like a child, he had chosen this one to sit back quietly.

"Erica is different," Isaac insisted him. He truly believed Erica was special, and they had to know that.

"How is she different?" Lydia asked calmly, hoping that Stiles wasn't upsetting him with his negativity.

"I'm sorry," Isaac said. He could tell something was wrong. Erica was sad, and he didn't know how to fix it. He felt like he should be able to fix it. And the others weren't their best because she was so sad.

Lydia could see the distress in his eyes, but she kept on, "Isaac, do you remember being in the showers with Erica? You were watching her. How does Erica make you feel?"

Isaac thought for a moment, but quickly answered with pure sincerity, "Better."

Stiles gave Lydia a look. This could prove to be a huge problem. But then again, they were both working under the assumption that Isaac was innocent. What if he wasn't?

**DDDDDDD**

"I can't believe this. I'm filling in for Ramirez for a week and my active invents rape?" Isaac's new handler complained. His name was Dallin, and he was especially nervous that the recent events might somehow reflect on him. He was talking with Peter about it as they overlooked the Dollhouse from the second floor walkway.

"We don't know what happened yet. Isaac might have just triggered a memory," Peter suggested.

"Well, Finstock's out for blood," Dallin said.

"Finstock hasn't found anything on the tapes. Nobody has," Peter told him. After Finstock;s initial review, Mr. Dominic and several other security staff members were assigned to watch the footage. But there was nothing to find.

"How is that even possible? Every square inch of this place is monitored. If two actives are going at it….. What do you think DeWitt'll do? You think he'll come down hard?" he asked with growing anticipation. It was starting to overwhelm his thoughts, and made him a little less coherent.

"It was probably just a mistake," Peter tried to calm him. "These Dolls, they're smiling all day. Then Erica's crying in bed? Why always then?"

"Maybe she's broken. You figure she's broken?" Dallin asked, hoping that somehow it would get him out of this situation.

Peter stood up to leave, "They're all broken."

**DDDDDDD**

"Claudia was amazing," Joel laughed, "She was a nurse and I was a basket case, so, you know, not a bad match. I was the guy with the almost great idea- floogle and blahoo! And facebooker. I was just always one step behind, and she was cool with it."

"And did she look exactly like Crystal?" Scott asked judgingly.

"No, but she was beautiful, and she knew it, and she loved me. I mean, I had been…" he sighed fondly, "I had been given a gift."

"And now you're hiring zombies," Scott kept on.

"You only know Claudia's dead because you've done one iota of research in between beating up licensed security people. Right? And I'm sure you know by now, I don't live in this place."

"Place is empty. Shame, big place."

Joel scoffed, "This place? This place could fit in my bathroom. I mean, this place could fit in my guest bathroom. Alright? I finally got one step ahead."

"Bouncy the Rat. Kids love it," Scott said, thinking of those stupid videos that Bonnie had forced him to watch. Which in retrospect, was probably some kind of personal payback.

"Ooh, they do. Long story still kind of long, my first check had more zeros than the Luftwaffe."

"The Japanese, they had the zeros, not the Germans," Scott corrected.

Joel rolled his eyes, "It was money. Alright? It was roll-around-in money and Claudia had no idea. She'd been supporting the both of us for years. Ridiculous hours. We were living in a one-room shack, and I knew this house was exactly her type. I paid cash and I called her up. I said, "meet me at this address, it's really important," and she was worried, you know, I could hear it. Sh-she probably thought this was a police station or something. But you know thinking about the look on her face when she saw this place, and I told her it was ours." He paused, feeling that same grief course through his body as he finished his story, "A Sanitation truck sideswiped her car three blocks from here, and I heard the impact and…. they said it was quick. I guess that, you know, they always have to say that. Right? But she never got to see this house, and she never knew I made good. So every year on this date, I pretend she does. I get to see that look on her face, and I get to show her our extraordinary home."

"And then you sleep with her," Scott cut in harshly.

"It is a fantasy," Joel reasoned.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Stilinski. It still doesn't make you anything other than a predator."

"Well, I'm sure I'm in need of some serious moral discipline, but, uh, guess who's not qualified to be my rabbi?"

"Well, I'm perfectly happy to let a federal judge…"

"Throw you in jail, hmm?" Joel interrupted, "I mean, we got trespassing, we got assault, and what you've got is a girl you're obsessed with, who I think we can both agree is not here. You put me in front of a judge, he'll take you down. He'll throw the Kindle at you." They heard the distant sound of sirens steadily getting louder, "I think one of my guys must have called 911. Um, do you want to stick around, see who gets cuffed or….."

Scott got up, ready to take off before he got himself into another illegal situation. "This is all going to come apart. You might not be punished and I might not be alive, but the Dollhouse will fall."

Scott took off out the back, Joel yelling out after him, "Go! Go live in your real world. If you ever did," he grabbed his glass and held it up, whispering, "Happy anniversary."

**DDDDDDD**

Things weren't right in the Dollhouse. Peter knew that much for sure. Forget about what had happened with Erica. In some way everyone seemed to be compromised. Lydia faced a litany of fears, the top of which being the monstrous Kanima that originated from inside this house. Other Dolls were showing signs of recognition, and were expressing thoughts and emotions that shouldn't have even been possible. Derek and Mr. Dominic seemed to be in a conflict of power that would ring it's ugly head whenever there was a life threatening situation.

Things were out of control. And now there was this. Erica being raped, with no proof as to who could have harmed her. But Peter already had his suspicions. He just needed to investigate. He searched the floor for any inconsistencies in the tapes. The security teams were focused on those few areas with no cameras, like bathroom stalls and the sleeping pods. Peter figured it had to be somewhere more obvious. The pods locked every night, so there was no getting in, and the bathroom stalls were too small. It had to be somewhere where the Dolls passed by all the time. The main floor was out, so he decided to check the first floor hallways. As he roamed around, Peter came across a blue glass panel set in the far end of the wall, which could be opened up for emergency storage. Peter looked around for a security camera and found one in the corner of the wall. He moved forward toward the glass, effectively putting him out of view of the lens. He had found it.

Peter got out his phone and made a call, "This is Peter Langton for Mr. Dominic…. Yes, you need to take Isaac off the floor… I'm sure… Isolate him and his handler."

**DDDDDDD**

Allison saw Isaac sitting by himself on one of the couches. He looked so deeply troubled. Terrified even. She walked over to him, thinking maybe she could make him happier.

He looked up at her as she approached and spoke softly, water welling up in his eyes, "I did something bad."

"What did you do?" she asked.

"Nobody will tell me," he whispered.

One of the staff women had approached them, two security guards by her side. She spoke calmly, but their collective presence was unsettling. "Isaac, I need you to come with me, please."

"Where?" he asked, feeling guilty for something he didn't even understand.

"I need you to come with me, please," she said again.

Isaac reluctantly got up and followed them. As they took him away, Isaac looked back at Allison, "Why did Erica scream at me?"

Allison wished she could tell him, but she had no answers. She heard shouting and looked up to the walkway. Isaac's handler, Dallin was also being detained by Mr. Dominic and another security officer, and he wasn't going quietly, "Who authorized this!? I didn't rape the Doll! Chris, Chris! I didn't do this! You know me, man. I wouldn't do this, man! Come on, you know, I didn't do this! I didn't do this!"

Peter and Finstock walked up next to Allison, taking in the scene as well. "Where are they taking Isaac?" she asked Peter, more concerned with how he was faring than the handler being dragged away.

"Why don't you go paint something?" Finstock replied distastefully. He still didn't like her, and with the apprehension of the culprit, he seemed to be getting his usual asshole attitude back. He clasped Peter on the shoulder and left, "Nice work, man."

"Where are they taking Isaac?" she asked him again.

"Allison, I'm trying to protect Erica," he said soothingly, convincing her he was doing the right thing.

"Erica cries."

"Not anymore," Peter said. He walked back down the halls of the Dollhouse to get himself ready for what came next.

**DDDDDDD**

"Is this enough?" Kira asked, handing Scott a bag of ice.

"Thanks," he took the bag and slapped it onto his bare shoulder.

"Are you, uh, always gonna show up bruised and bleeding? 'Cause it's kind of funny how I'm not getting used to it," she asked uncomfortable, noticing all the marks on his bare torso.

"It was her," Scott said.

"You met Crystal?" Kira was hesitant of what that could mean.

"I _saw_ Crystal. I _met_ Claudia. And I let both of them get away," he took a seat on the couch and she followed, taking the chair next to him.

"So, it's all true," she tried to be happy for him, grateful that this proved he wasn't crazy.

"I knew it was true. I just didn't expect…. If it had been anybody else, the jail cells would be full, and I'd be busy writing the great American arrest report. I never thought it would be her," Scott shook his head, disappointed in himself. He had let Crystal cloud his judgement, and it might have just cost him everything.

"Did you get the guy? The john, the client. Ugh, what are they called?"

"I talked to him."

"And?" she asked expectantly. Scott looked into her eyes. She seemed so innocent and sweet. And she was beautiful. And she believed in him. Maybe it was just Stilinski's prattling on about Scott's fantasies, but he decided to act on impulse. He leaned forward and kissed her.

Kira felt like she had lost all the breath in her body. As he pulled away she looked at him, wide eyed and in awe, "And you kissed him?" she asked, her now clouded thoughts coming up with the idea that this somehow still related to his story.

"I'm sorry," Scott said, feeling bad that he might have acted too quickly.

"I'm not," Kira breathed out, feeling suddenly very confused as all her doubts came rushing in at once, "I mean, I am. I-I mean, you are. Don't do that. Don't inflate the stock before you dump it," she stood up and caught her breath, addressing the biggest doubt on her mind, "Don't think about _her_ and kiss me."

"I wasn't, uh…" Scott stood up, almost dropping the ice pack on the ground.

Kira spoke up before he could say anything else, "Forget it. I think it's best we forget it. Would be stupid, anyway," she sighed, "We're neighbors, we should just… we should be…. neighborly."

"Great," Scott said half-heartedly.

"Yes. Neighborly. Can I borrow a cup of sugar?" she joked, slapping his arm. They both forced out a laugh, trying to overcome this awkward situation, "Like that. So, why don't you just tell me about today."

"The guy's name was Joel Stilinski," Scott said, trying to smooth his way back into their normal conversations.

"Joel Stilinski from Bouncy the Rat?" she asked excitedly.

**DDDDDDD**

Erica made her way down the hallways of the Dollhouse. She was dressed in her nightgown and it was almost time for her to go to sleep in the pods. She stopped and looked around, seeing no one. It was time, and she had to go to him. She walked over to the blue wall panel, opening it up and stepping inside. She waited for a few minutes before Joe Finstock came in after her.

He stood in front of her, looking pleased, "Do you trust me?"

"With my life," she responded against her will.

"Do you want to play the game?" he asked, his voice sounding sinister.

"No," she said with as much defiance as her current state would allow. But no matter what, he was her handler, and she couldn't refuse him.

"But you remember to be very quiet during the game, right?" he asked, stripping off his jacket.

"Noise is upsetting," she said solemnly.

"Lift up your dress." Before either of them could move, Peter came out of the shadows from inside the storage room, punching Finstock in the face and sending him crashing through the blue glass panel. The noise echoed around the house, as he writhed on the ground, several cuts now marked on his hands and face.

Erica looked at him and then up at Peter, "That wasn't quiet."

"Wasn't meant to be."

**DDDDDDD**

"Why didn't you tell us you were setting up Finstock?" Derek asked with harsh intensity. He wasn't even looking at Peter. He just stared out the window of his office at the neon lights of the city, his arms folded across his chest.

"He had to be clear. He had to be flush with success, or he'd never have tried again," Peter reasoned. To Derek it sounded like ex-cop heroics and tactics.

"You will never take action like that on your own again inside these walls. Am I clear?" Derek said.

"You're clear."

Derek turned around and sat in his desk, finally looking at him, "A bonus has been wired to your account."

"I don't need a bonus," Peter dismissed.

"Well, I need to give it to you," there was no joy in Derek's eyes. No anger. No pride. He was unreadable. Peter couldn't tell what he was really thinking, and it made him anxious. "That's all," Derek said, letting him go.

Mr. Dominic waited for Peter to leave before stepping up to talk, "Mr. Dewitt. What do we do with Finstock?"

"I'll let you know," Derek sighed.

"And you saw the other thing? The tap?"

Derek pressed a button on his keyboard and one of the paintings lifted up, revealing the wall monitor. It began playing a video feed coming from inside Scott Ballard's apartment. From the angle it was set in, the camera was hidden in a vent high up on the wall. Agent Ballard was standing there holding a packet of ice as he talked to some young woman.

"Joel Stilinski from Bouncy the Rat?" she asked excitedly. "He was on the cover of Wired."

"You read Wired?" Scott asked, an impressed but surprised tone to his voice.

"You can see the cover in stores," she admitted shyly. "Brownish hair, a little older, kind of cute?"

"I don't remember him as cute," Scott said flatly.

Derek clicked a button on his keyboard and stopped the video, giving Mr. Dominic the go-ahead to express his concerns, "Sir, do you have an exit strategy? We have a handler abusing an active, and a federal agent interrupting an engagement, spilling his guts to the nearest civilian. I take much of that as my responsibility, but the higher-ups will target you if this all goes south."

"Your concern is touching, but my bags are not packed. You will bring the handler to me. And as for the intrepid agent…. tell Stiles to prep Allison. I think they're ready for a second date," Derek smirked. If he played his cards right, this was all going to work out perfectly.

**DDDDDDD**

"Oh-ho. You're bad. Mmm. You're a naughty girl," Stiles exclaimed, tinkering with the imprint and revealing in his own innuendos. Or maybe he actually found the experience stimulating in some way. One could never quite say. His mood had improved considerable after learning that Peter had caught the culprit. Learning that Isaac was innocent had helped too. He was beginning to enjoy his work again, was melding together the components to make Allison's 'killer' new personality. When he fused the results together, the projection flashed red, alerting him to its incompatibility, "Oh, okay. Uh But you're not that girl. That girl has control issues that don't mesh well with the enhanced combat skill set."

Cora had heard him and walked over to him, analyzing the projection so that she might have a chance to shine. "You can re-cluster the inhibitors to offset the dissonance," she suggested, trying to impress him, "Don't we want aggression?"

"And precision," he added on, diminishing her efforts, "I need a soupcon of rage, not a whole tasting menu. Mmm. And now I'm hungry. Find out if the kitchen has the almond-crusted salmon."

"I live to serve lunch," Cora answered sarcastically, leaving for the kitchen. She was already beginning to miss his somber mood from that morning.

"Uh-huh," Stiles rearranged the components and the imprint accepted the change, "And hello, gorgeous but deadly. Now let's upload imprint to file drive."

"Stiles," Peter called him. He was standing in the doorway and obviously wanted to talk.

"I'm in my process. I'm… " Stiles started whining, taking one look at Peter and conceding, leaving his office to follow him, "What's the scuttlebutt? I'm finally starting to relax."

"Allison's been engaged," Peter said as they walked down the hall.

"Well, that does happen," Stiles answered in a plain sarcastic tone.

"I'm not on it," Peter added, "I'm on hold."

Stiles did a kind of scoffing laugh, "Yeah. You put another handler through a plate glass window, big guy. That's 48 hours chill time, minimum."

"What is she doing? Allison?" Peter asked concerned.

"Oh, um, life coach gig. You know, remind some doctor why he helps kids who have…. you know….gross kids," he lied rather poorly.

"They don't think I can handle that?" Holy crap! Did he actually buy that?

"Uh, not everything is about you, infinite ego man. You know, you did nail the guy who was abusing Erica. You should go out and get drunk and beat your chest. Allison will be here when you get back," Peter went to leave, but Stiles called out to him, a little more serious this time, "Hey. How did you figure out it was Finstock, anyway? Is it a cop thing? Reading people?"

"You do the work."

"Well, good work," Stiles nodded at him in appreciation. He walked back into his office and finished uploading his imprint to the wedge. He pulled the wedge out and took it over to the chair, ready for Allison.

**DDDDDDD**

"Can you imagine at all why it is you are not dead?"

Finstock was sat in a chair in Derek's office, his hands tied behind his back. Derek stood in front of him, while Mr. Dominic waited on the sidelines. "You probably got something worse planned. You gonna erase my brain, turn me into one of your fantasy boys?" Finstock asked.

"I find it a bit sad that you think of yourself as a candidate for anyone's fantasy," Derek smirked.

"Ah, you know you're a little sweet on me," Finstock taunted him. Chris responded by punching him in the stomach as Derek stood idly by. Finstock coughed and yelled, "You think I'm gonna beg!? You want to kill me? You want to put me in the Nemeton!? I can't stop you. The jig is up."

Derek ignored his shouting, walking over to browse his files, "How many times?" Finstock seemed hesitant to answer, "I can easily find out, but I want to hear it from you."

"Four."

"You're disgusting," Chris spat.

"Don't give me that! You put her under some fat, old emir every day. You think it makes it better because she thinks she's in love for all of a day? We're in the business of using people!"

"You understand less about this business than you think," Derek said with bitter disgust, almost as if his disrespect for the company was more horrible to him than anything else.

"And you don't get how it actually works down there," Finstock countered, "You put a bunch of stone foxes in front of us with no willpower and no memory running around half-naked. Did you think this wouldn't ever happen?"

"Did it make it better? That she didn't struggle?" Derek asked, going back to reading one of the files.

"No….. It made it easier."

"Mr. Dominic, would you leave us?" Derek asked.

"Mr. Dewitt, I…"

"I'll be perfectly safe. Please." Derek assured him. Chris left reluctantly, confident that Derek could take care of himself. He was actually more concerned with what Derek was planning that he couldn't be there to hear. "We are in the business of using people. The question is, what is the best use for someone like you?"

Derek finally revealed the file to him. Inside was a picture of Kira. "What is this?" Finstock asked.

"This woman is a problem for us. She's learned too much about the organization. It wasn't her fault, really…. I need her killed, and it can't be clean. This is your chance to avoid the Nemeton. You may even consider it something of a promotion. After all, this one will probably struggle."

**DDDDDDD**

Kira was gasping as she lay back on the bed, pleasure coursing through her body. Scott got up and laid down right next to her under the covers, a sheen of sweat covering his body. Kira spoke to him as she caught her breath, "My God…. You're so….. Neighborly."

They both laughed a little. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, "So can I borrow a cup of sugar?" he joked.

She laughed, "I don't think I got any sugar left. And I'm not gonna freak out on you."

"Uh… good?" Scott said, not really getting what she was talking about.

"When you tell me this is all a mistake, and we should forget it ever happened, I'm gonna be very cool. You're gonna be bothered by how cool I am," she said, suddenly feeling very confident in herself.

"What if I don't say that?" Scott said, resting his head on his hand, smiling at her.

She got up and mirrored his position, "I'll still be cool, but not as cool," she said, acting as if she were much more detached from the situation than she actually was.

"What if you tell me it was a mistake?" Scott asked.

She laughed and plopped back down on the bed, "Oh, God, you're gonna be so clingy, weeping and moping, texting me. It's too embarrassing."

Scott feigned a pouty look on his face pulled the covers up to his chest, "I am not a piece of meat, you know. I have a heart."

She sighed, "I was thinking about Crystal."

Scott looked at her in shock, "Well, I wasn't."

She laughed "I believe you. And I believe you should find her. I think what they're doing is wrong. And while I don't love seeing you get beat up and shot, I think your work is important."

"Then help me out," Scott told her.

"Is this the part where you dress me up and use me as bait? 'cause those movies never end well."

"It's the part where I run down to Tiki Port and grab us dinner and we go over my classified files and you give me your perspective on some stuff. Might see something else I didn't."

"You think I'd be helpful?"

"Yeah. You were last time. I think you could be a lot of help," he grinned, brushing her hair out of her face.

"That's the sweetest thing you've done for me all day."

Scott looked down at the sheets covering their bodies, "Well, what about the, um, the other things?"

She giggled and plopped back down, getting comfy, "Fetch me spring rolls. Then I'm gonna bust this case wide open!"

**DDDDDDD**

Scott had gotten dressed and made his way down the street to get their food. Since it wasn't that far, he decided to walk and enjoy the night. The restaurant was open twenty four hours, so there was no rush. He couldn't believe he had been so obsessed that he had kept Kira at a distance. She was great. One of the kindest and most innocent people he had ever met. And she took everything in stride, even if she didn't think she was good enough. But she was.

As Scott walked inside, he thought he saw someone run into the kitchen. As the doors swung back and forth, he could just barely make out a reflection in the window of the door. It was…. Crystal? It couldn't be. Not twice in one night. Scott walked over to the doors, and looked inside. It was empty so he decided to investigate. If anyone tried to stop him, he could just say he was FBI. He always carried his gun and badge out of habit.

Scott walked into the kitchen, not seeing anyone around. Suddenly, Allison came up from behind him, wrapping her leg around his so she had the leverage to knock him over at any time. She grabbed one of his arms and held it behind his back, taking his gun from the holster and pointing it at his head.

"Whoever you are, I swear I don't want to hurt you," he assured her.

"I know," she said venomously. Allison swiped his feet out from under him, knocking him on his back. As he fell he managed to grab the gun and pull it out of her grasp. It went flying past them, going through the open door that led out into the alleyway. She quickly grabbed a large kitchen knife from the counter and held it up threateningly, "I'm counting on it."

Scott got up to his feet and grabbed two metal utensils. She swipped at him with the knife, and he blocked her. He moved the utensils in his hand so they covered his forearms. He blocked her attacks in the same manner a boxer would guard his face as he got in close. He grabbed the knife, dropping his weapons to wrestle it out of her grip. She elbowed him in the stomach, holding on to the knife. Allison twisted her weight around and punched him in the back. Scott lost his grip and rolled over the counter away from her. She tossed the knife at him, and he opened the fridge door to cover his body. The glass door shattered and he covered his eyes. Allison took advantage of this and rolled over the counter, grabbing a pan while she did so and hitting him in the chest. Scott stumbled back, catching his breath. He charged at her, catching her off guard. He picked her up over his shoulder in a tackle, leading her out into the alley and slamming her down onto the hood of the car right by the door.

He went to punch her, but she had her hands held up in surrender, a look of confusion and terror on her face. He hesitated and she smacked on both sides of his face. She got up onto the hood of the car, taking the higher ground. He reached out to grab her legs and drag her down, but she flipped out of the way, onto the top of the car. She turned on her side and sent her leg out to kick him in the face. He dove out of the way, barley in time. He got up, seeing his gun in the middle of the alley. Scott ran to it, and Allison got up on the car, jumping off to try and beat him there. He did a body roll onto the ground, grabbing his gun and turning on his heel to point it at Allison. She stopped dead in her tracks.

She stood quietly, while Scott tried to catch his breath. She looked at him and spoke evenly, "The Dollhouse is real. They know you're after them and they are going to have you taken off the case. That's why they sent me."

"Why are you telling me this?" Scott asked, not understanding the sudden change in this encounter.

"We have a person inside. This person corrupted the imprint while the programmer wasn't looking, and added this parameter."

"Is this the person that sent me the tapes and picture?"

"No. This is their first communication. Security inside is very tight," she told him.

"Where is it?" Scott asked hastily. If she was gona talk, he wanted as many answers out of her as he could get.

"You can't know that. You're going about this the wrong way," she said.

"I have to take down the Dollhouse," Scott insisted.

"There are over 20 Dollhouses, in cities around the world." Scott stood there dumbfounded. He never considered the fact that there might be more than one, "They have ties to every major political power on the planet. You cannot possibly stop them alone."

"You're going to help me?" he asked, genuinely wondering how far this was going to go. He kept his gun pointed at her, lest she decide to start fighting him again.

"The person that sent this message is going to help you."

"Why?"

"The Dollhouse deals in fantasy. That is their business, but that is not their purpose."

"What is?"

"We need you to find out," she told him. So did people in the Dollhouse not even know what took place there? Who was this spy? "We'll contact you again, if possible with this same body. But you have to let the Dollhouse win. Make them back off. You have to trust me," they could hear someone running around the corner into the alley. Allison maneuvered in front of Scott before he could even react, grabbing his arm holding the gun, and wrapping it around her to look as if she were a hostage. She pulled the trigger on it and shot the cop that came into view, screaming, "he's got a gun!"

The officer fell to the ground and Allison released her hold. Scott looked on in horror. He couldn't believe what she had just done. What she made it look like he did. He moved to help the fallen officer, but Allison blocked his path, "What are you…"

"You have to go now," she told him, "He'll live. You'll be blamed. The engagement is complete, they'll never know I spoke to you."

"No," Scott said defiantly. He couldn't just leave that man there.

She knew he wouldn't go quietly, but there was more to it than he realized, "You have to go. They don't want to kill you, but they will protect the information."

A waiter from the restaurant came into the alley from the other side. He saw the man lying on the ground and the other two people talking. Scott yelled at him, "Call an ambulance! Officer down! Go!" The waiter was so startled that he took off, not bothering to ask questions. Scott turned his attention back to Allison.

"They will protect the information," she continued, trying to warn him, "They don't want you dead, but anyone else…"

"Kira," Scott realized. He had put her in danger, just like he promised himself he wouldn't do. He took off down the street, running as fast as he could, hoping he could reach her in time.

**DDDDDDD**

Kira was wearing Scott's shirt as she played with the music on his stereo. There was a knock at the door just as she ended up on a classical music station. Quickly forgetting about the stereo, she made her way to the door, practically bouncing on her feet with joy. But before she could open it, the door came flying in as Mr. Finstock kicked it in. He was wearing all black and had a ski-mask on. Kira screamed, trying to get away from him, but she hadn't reacted quickly enough. He grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back and then pushing her into the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen. He spun around and turned up the music on the stereo, as he forced himself over her.

Scott was running as fast as he could down the street. He pulled out his cell-phone to try and call the apartment, hoping that Kira would answer, or at least hear the message and get out. The phone rang and rang, but he wasn't hearing anything. He cut down a back alley, waiting for that damn voicemail to come up.

Kira was pressed down face first into the counter, Finstock's body pressing down on her. She reached her hand out over the counter, trying to grab a knife that was just out of reach. Finstock saw what she was doing and grabbed her by the throat, throwing her backwards onto the ground. Kira tried to shimmy away from him, but she couldn't get her bearings. The incessant sound of the phone now filled the room, drowning out the sounds of the struggle even more. He sat on top of her and pushed her to the floor. He wrapped his hands around her neck, a little disappointed that he wouldn't get to enjoy this one. She pushed against his face, looking for anyway to get out. She managed to pull off his mask, but he didn't care. She was going to die anyway.

The phone stopped ringing, activating the answering machine. Scott's voice came through, somehow discernable among the chaos, "Leave a message," he said simply.

The beep was followed by a man's voice, but it wasn't Scott's. It was older, and firm, with a slight British inflection. It was Derek. Derek was leaving a message on Scott's answering machine. This caused Finstock to look up in confusion, but not relenting on his assault as Derek spoke, "There are three flowers in a vase. The third flower is green."

Finstock looked back down at Kira who had gone incredibly still. She wasn't struggling. She wasn't even moving. But she wasn't dead. Suddenly, like a light switch, she looked up at him with extreme focus and determination. She grabbed him by the throat with one hand, the other grabbing him under his crotch, and she pushed up with her foot, causing him to roll over her onto the ground. She was up on her feet in an instant. Finstock got up and attacked, but she blocked his punch with ease. She jabbed him in the throat, causing him to cough and stumble back. She kicked his leg out from under him, then punched him across the face, his head falling directly on the coffee table. She took one strong kick and felt his neck snap as she pressed it into the edge of the coffee table.

Derek watched the scene from his office on the video monitor, the message still recording, "There are three flowers in a vase. The third flower is yellow." As soon as Derek finished the code, Kira looked around and turned into a blubbering mess. She could feel the emotions crash over her as she cowered in a corner. Seconds later Scott came rushing in, seeing the dead man on the table and Kira curled into a ball. He held her close, wondering what had transpired. The Dollhouse had sent someone to kill Kira, and she had been lucky enough to survive. She had been lucky enough to put a stop to him once and for all. But he couldn't tell how she would be able to handle this. Taking someone's life. As she cried into his shoulder, all he could think about was how all of it was his fault.

**DDDDDDD**

"I understand. Thank you. We'll talk soon," Chris hung up the phone in Derek's office. He followed Derek out of his office and into the executive elevator that led directly into the Dollhouse.

"Agent Scott Ballard was suspended of duty pending an investigation into the shooting of Officer Hardin. The accusations include violent paranoia, the attack on Mr. Stilinski's bodyguards, and the feud with the Borodins, as evidenced by the break-in at his apartment," they had created a self-contained circle of obsession and neuroticism. Scott Ballard was nothing more than an incompetent agent chasing down imaginary leads with extreme methods. He wasn't going to be back in business for a long time, if at all.

"Finstock's fingerprints?" Derek asked.

"Came up Russian. A floater not linked to anyone with power. It's all tied together sir."

"With a pretty bow?" Derek asked, half sarcastically, half smugly.

"And our Kitsune performed perfectly. I replayed the tap," Chris said.

"More than once," Derek said, letting him know that he had seen it too, "It did not lack for poetry. Bring her in so Stiles can run a diagnostic."

"Are we pulling her? Now that Ballard's off the case?"

"No. A man like Ballard doesn't take himself out of the game just because of this," Derek said. They were going to need Kira now more than ever, "Besides, she loves him."

"You played a good hand sir," Chris complimented.

"I played a very bad hand very well. There is a distinction."

"Of course," the elevator doors opened and they stepped out onto the second floor walkway.

Derek turned to address Chris properly, changing the subject to more unpleasant matters, "I want you to contact your counterparts in all the other houses, tell them about what happened to Erica."

"That won't look good for you," Chris warned. He didn't really want it to be known that the incident happened under Derek's supervision.

"It can't happen again," Derek said firmly, "Anywhere."

"She's alright?" Chris asked curiously, looking past Derek at Erica sitting on one of the couches downstairs.

Derek turned around and rested his hands on the rail, gazing at her with intent. He felt nothing but remorse for the poor girl. She was under his care, and he had created the circumstances of her abuse, "Stiles did everything he knows to remove the experience. Ignorance in this case, truly is bliss."

"I don't think they're as ignorant as they're supposed to be," Chris countered.

"No," Derek agreed, seeing Isaac walking towards her, "We're working on it."

"Good day," Erica smiled as Isaac came up to her.

Isaac brightened up now that she wasn't sad anymore. "You have a book," he said, looking at the picture book in her hands.

"I enjoy looking at it. Would you like to see?" she asked. Isaac took a seat next to her on the couch and they huddled up together, looking at the book. They were happy. Genuinely happy.

**DDDDDDD**

Derek walked over to the art station where Allison was. He crouched down in front of her, taking his more delicate approach. Not many people got to see it, but she was only a Doll. She had no concept of his harsher emotions, nor did she deserve them, "Hello, Allison," she looked up at him, setting down her paintbrush, "You've drawn a picture. It's very good."

"It isn't finished," she told him, looking at the picture of the small little house. A man and woman were standing outside in front of it.

"The picture?" Derek asked. It was the only thing she could be talking about it, but the way she said it…. It sounded like something different.

"It isn't finished," she said again, feeling a little sad. She looked down at the picture. It was so real to her. She could almost feel it. Something deep inside, like a memory.

"You'd like it to be finished?" Derek asked.

She looked at it again. She could almost see it. A man and his wife standing in front of the house. She could see her face of joy and surprise when he spoke to her. She was happy with him. Happier than she ever felt before. And she was devastated, that it never could last.

**Don't forget to review! It really makes me feel good and want to write the next chapter. With all the twists in this chapter, I would love to hear what you have to say about them!**


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